


Spring in Constanta

by thatcrazywriterley



Series: Seasons of Love Series [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Angst, F/M, Mutual Pining, Romance, Seasons of Love Series, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 06:52:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 25,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17017845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatcrazywriterley/pseuds/thatcrazywriterley
Summary: After a heartbreaking revelation about Chris, Tatiana gets back to her life in Constanta, Romania. She goes back to work as a pre-school teacher and looks to move past her pain. But when Chris shows up unexpectedly, can she reconcile her past and future to become whole again?





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

 

            “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I sputtered as the waves rushed up over my toes.

            The sun was high and bright in the Romanian sky, the first days of spring rushing through the air. A salt breeze blew off the Black Sea, ruffling my long brown hair as I tried to keep it trapped in my hands.

            My cousin stood in the sand beside me, the water crashing over his bare toes. He looked over at me with a pained expression. Sebastian rolled his eyes. “I tried to tell you, but you wouldn’t listen.”

            “No,” I snapped, digging my feet out of the sand as I tried to physically backpedal from what my cousin was saying. “No. I thought we had all of this figured out after I got back.”

            Sebastian grunted. “No, you heard something and didn’t wait to figure out what was going on. You made a rash decision that we both know you’re miserable with, but you’re too proud to actually say that you were wrong.”

            I stomped up the sand as much as my still aching leg would allow. The sand sucked at my feet and made the going slow, which made the little flame of anger inside me burn even brighter.

            “Tati,” Sebastian called as he trudged after me. “Do you have any idea what’s going on with Chris right now?”

            “No,” I spat back at him. “And I don’t care.”

            In a snap, my cousin grabbed me by the wrist and turned me back toward him. Sand flew up around my ankles, getting stuck in the folds of my jeans. Sebastian looked down at me with a scowl on his face.

            “It doesn’t matter. He’s coming. His flight lands tomorrow morning at ten.”

            “I hope you have plans to entertain him,” I said through clenched teeth. “I don’t want to see him.”

            For a moment, I thought that Sebastian would argue. Instead, he let go of my wrist and pushed me away from him. He snatched up his shoes and sighed. “I’ll be with bunicǎ.”

            “Oh, no,” I snarled, stomping toward him. I poked my finger hard against his sculpted chest. “Don’t you even think that you’re going to invite him here and then ditch me to have to deal with him. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, Sebastian. I don’t want to see Chris Evans. Not ever.”

            He opened his mouth, but shut it again when I gave him another hard poke. A spark of pain lanced up my fingertip, but I didn’t care. Instead, I focused on fighting the feeling of pure rage and sadness that poured through me. Instead, I fought the tears that threatened to spill down my cheeks.

            “Don’t…” My voice broke painfully. “Don’t do this to me, Seb. Please.”

            In a moment, my anger and resolve shattered. I felt sick. Everything in me wanted to just dig into the sand and stay there, buried in the remnants of the broken heart that I thought I’d fixed. Or at least patched. I had never been more wrong in my life.

            Sebastian stopped and wrapped his arms around me, yanked me close into a hug that was warmer and harder than anything I’d had in a long time. He tucked my head beneath his jaw and kissed the top of my head with a sigh.

            “You can’t run forever, Tati,” he whispered softly. The wind whistled around us, tangling my hair around us. “I know you’re scared. I know…”

            Without warning, I sank into the sand, dragging Sebastian with me. We were just above the tide line, the water rushing up from the ocean and crashing into the sand a few feet from my toes. I let Sebastian hold me as I tried to find my center. The idea of seeing Chris again was enough to make my stomach turn over, my heart pound at a thunderous pace, noise crash and rush in my ears. A seize of panic hit me so hard that I thought I would never be able to breathe again.

            Sebastian did his best to help me calm, but nothing he did was enough. The panic set its claws into my heart and my lungs and refused to let go. Nausea and anxiety warred within me. My body turned inside out with terror and a sense of the world falling away from beneath my feet.

            I wished, not for the first time, that Chris was there. After everything that happened over the winter I spent in Boston, I couldn’t forget the way Chris Evans had made me feel. I couldn’t forget the way he’d calmed me when I panicked on the streets of New York City. I couldn’t forget how he’d carried me from the ice rink when I’d injured my ankle. Every moment of those few months were etched into my brain, locked deep in my memory, tattooed on my heart.

            A wail ripped its way out of me. I sank forward into the sand, tears rolling down my cheeks. Sebastian wrapped his arms around me so tightly that I didn’t think I could breathe. He hugged me until I couldn’t see or feel anything but the weight of his heavy arms. I tried to count his breaths, focus on the gentle timing of his hands stroking down my hair.

            It felt as if a thousand years had passed when I was finally able to breathe again without pain in my chest and stars flashing before my eyes.

            Sebastian whispered softly in Romanian, the words nonsensical but calming. At last, I gathered myself together enough to pull away from my cousin. The sky overhead had darkened to a gunmetal grey. The waves on the Black Sea rolled in heavily, crashing against the sand in loud thunderclaps. Even the air felt heavier, waiting for the storm that brewed out over the water.

            “What will I say to him?” I whispered. For a moment, Sebastian was silent. I worried that my words had been carried out onto the wind.

            He shrugged. “Whatever you want to. Chris hasn’t stopped loving you, Tati.”

            My head felt as if it would burst into a thousand million pieces. I looked up at Sebastian and tried to focus on his face. “But what I heard…”

            Sebastian waved his hand to stop me. “It wasn’t what you think, Tatiana. But you never let him explain. Temerile tale te fac pe cel mai bun dintre voi.”

            I sighed and settled my head against his chest. “I’m always afraid, Seb. I’m afraid of being alone.”

            He sighed and wrapped me tightly in his arms again. “You aren’t alone,” he said quietly. “And if you give Chris a chance, he won’t leave you.”

            Somehow, somewhere deep down in my soul, I knew that Sebastian was right. But I was so afraid that I couldn’t even enjoy the first days of Spring in Constanta.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

 

            I paced, as much as my sore ankle would allow. The storm crashed over the beaches from the Black Sea and turned Constanta into a twinkling village of flooded streets and muted lights. The gunmetal sky filled with blue-black shadows as the clouds blocked out the stars and the light of the full moon.

            And in my apartment, I paced.

            The clock on the wall ticked with a maddening steadiness. At times, I longed for the one-two tick of the clock in my classroom—the one whose second hand moved every two seconds in a rapid jerk. Anything to break from the monotony of silence and dread. Time ticked by… slowly… swiftly… horribly… inevitably.

            The storm raged throughout the night. Rain pelted against the roof, sluiced down the windows in rivers, gurgled out of the gutters and into the streets. On a normal night, I would have enjoyed the sound of Mother Nature washing the world clean. But not tonight. Tonight… Mother Nature was putting on a show just for me.

            See here, she whispered in her watery wind-swept voice. This is your head, dear. Your head and your heart and your soul. Ah, but the rain will cease in the morning. Just in time for a visitor.

            I glared out the windows and grunted. Mother Nature was a bitch.

            Just after one in the morning, my phone buzzed with a series of messages. A rush of fear sizzled up my spine. No one really talked to me anymore except Sebastian and a few people from work, Nicolo and his parents checking in on me sometimes. Although that didn’t mean Chris hadn’t tried. I deleted a voicemail or a text from him at least twice a week.

            My hands trembled as I picked up the phone, swiping my finger over the front to wake it up. Sebastian’s face winked at me from the top of the thread.

            He’s in London. Layover of two hours.

            He’s keeping me awake. Just talk to him.

            Please. For God’s sake, just talk to him.

            Dalca, stop being a baby. Call him.

            I swear, I will call you and put it on three-way so you will grow up.

            Don’t make me do this.

            I clicked the phone off and tossed it onto the bed. I wrapped a blanket around my shoulders and wandered through the apartment, trying to decide what to do. Part of me wanted to break out the whiskey that I kept hidden above the sink for when I had a cold—just so I could sleep. That part of me was so gripped with fear and sadness that giving in to it was a dangerous thing. Enough to sleep would never be enough to drown my anxious heart.

            And yet there was another part of me, a quiet little whisper somewhere in the darkest corner of my traitorous heart, that thought nothing bad could happen from one little message. There was a storm outside after all, and it was always dangerous to fly in such conditions. As much as I hurt, as much as I ached to the depths of my soul, I couldn’t just let Chris Evans fly into that mess without at least some last words from me, could I?

            Somewhere between three and four in the morning—after at least seven shots of whiskey—I finally picked up the phone. My body tingled with a whiskey warmth and nerves as I searched through my contacts for Chris’ number. The cotton settling in my brain kept me from truly thinking through what I was about to do.

            It felt as if the line rang forever. The high-low tone reverberated through my head so much that I almost hung up. Perhaps his flight had already left London. Maybe he was sitting in the VIP lounge at Heathrow with a beer and some British bimbo.

            “Tatiana.” His voice was rough and ragged, but it was Chris. The way he said my name made my heart turn over so quickly that I thought the whiskey in my stomach would make a surprise appearance.

            “Christopher.” I could tell my voice was a little slurred, but I didn’t care. I finally had a bit of courage to let Chris know how I felt.

            He sighed, and I imagined that he tugged off his Patriots cap and ran his hand through his hair. I wondered if it was shaggy or straight cut like Captain America.

            “How are you?” Zeu, I’d missed his voice.

            “Drunk and awake at four AM. How are you?”

            He chuckled. The sound of it was like a heady wine made from forbidden fruit. It slipped inside me and settled in my bones and sinews. The whiskey tingle slowly turned to something else.

            “Sitting in Heathrow waiting on a delayed flight.” He paused for a moment, and I felt a jolt of fear that he was going to hang up. “I’m coming to you, Tati.”

            “I know. Frate-vǎr told me.” I thought of Sebastian and those wonderful weeks I spent, happy and in love in Boston. “You’re wasting your time.”

            “Please… please don’t say that.” His voice suddenly sounded frantic. “I need to explain. I need to help you understand it wasn’t what you thought.”

            “What was it, then, Chris? What was it if it wasn’t some bitch in your bed not two weeks after you said you loved me? After you told me you’d wait for me?” The words tumbled out of my mouth, some of them slurring together until even I wasn’t sure what I was saying.

            For a moment, he went silent. I hoped that he was ashamed of what he’d done, of what he’d put me through. I wanted him to know how thoroughly he broke my heart, how he’d shattered every bit of my sense of who I was because of how much I loved him.

            The dead quiet on the other end stretched out, became a pause that twisted my lungs until I couldn’t breathe. My heart dropped, sloshing into my stomach and crashing into my toes. I fought back tears and panic.

            “You can’t tell me it was something else, because it wasn’t. Was it?” I stood up, feeling a buzz and pure rage spinning through my skull. “You fucked someone else, Chris. Don’t you understand what that did to me? It crushed everything about me. I forgot who I was because of you, because of how much I wanted to be with you. To be worthy of you. And you held my heart in your hands and wrung it out until there was nothing left.”

            Tears welled in my eyes. I couldn’t take it anymore. I sobbed and shouted, cursing at him in Romanian whenever I could catch my breath. And through it all, he sat in silence—not answering, not defending his actions.

            After a while, I caught hold of myself long enough to say one last thing. I took a breath, made sure that I was clear enough that I could say it slowly and definitively. In English.

            “I can’t stop you from coming to Constanta, Chris. But if I see you, if you try to find me, I will hate you for the rest of my life.” I fumbled to get a breath, to stop my shattered heart from grinding itself into dust. “I don’t want to see you. I don’t want to talk to you. I want to live my life and try… just fucking try to be happy.”

            I clicked the phone off, not caring what he had to say in return. I tossed it across the room and curled into a ball on the bed, hoping that I could sleep off my broken heart and the whiskey clogging my veins.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

 

            When I finally woke up the next morning, my head was pounding so hard that I thought a band of dwarves had started a mine in there. I dragged myself out of the bed and went to the bathroom to wash up. Everything from the night before was hazy, though I knew I’d done a good amount of drinking and shouting.

            My phone was on the floor by the window. Luckily, it hadn’t smashed or cracked when I’d tossed it across the room the night before. I picked it up and swiped my finger to wake it up. The screen was filled with notifications, at least four text messages and two voicemails from Chris and another dozen messages from my cousin. Sighing, I rubbed my thumb and forefinger against the bridge of my nose in the hopes of pushing away a migraine.

            I read the messages from Chris, all of them pleading for me to let him explain. To just listen. I deleted them all in one fell swoop. Sebastian’s were little better. He reminded me of when Chris’ flight landed, that he wouldn’t ignore his friend just because I was upset, that I was acting like a child. Then that he knew I was hurting and he was sorry, that he didn’t know how to manage this—his friend and his cousin. He said he was sorry for ever introducing us.

            I sent him a quick message back in Romanian. You don’t have to be sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong.

            My head throbbing and my self-control more than a little compromised, I swiped through to the voicemails from Chris. I started with the earliest one.

            “Tatiana, I know you don’t want to hear from me, and I know it’s a dick move calling anyway. I’m sorry. I just… I don’t know what I want to do. I’ve been a mess for months. I miss you so fucking much, and I don’t know how to fix this without talking to you.” He sighed, and I imagined him running his hand along his beard in anxiety. “You have every right to be upset with me. I was an ass and I hurt you. But I swear to you, Tati, inima și sufletul meu… it wasn’t what you think. There’s no one but you.”

            My heart and soul.

            The message cut off. The next one began.

            “I love you, Tatiana Dalca. And if you’ll give me one chance, just one chance—ten minutes to explain—and afterward if you don’t want to see me again, I’ll leave you alone. I swear. You’ll never hear from me again. Just tell Seb and he’ll tell me.”

            I looked down at the phone in my hand. My chest ached in a way that it hadn’t in months. Everything in me seemed to slow like molasses. I couldn’t catch hold of my thoughts. My fingers trembled as I typed a message to Sebastian.

            He’s got 10 minutes.

 

            I took longer than usual getting ready that evening. As much as I was broken and unsure of myself, I didn’t want Chris to see me this way. If tonight would be the last time we ever saw one another, I wanted him to leave knowing that he’d messed up and lost someone special. Even if I didn’t feel that way.

            After wrapping a scarf around my neck, I tugged my dark hair free, letting it fall over my shoulders in waves. I tugged on a charcoal jacket and picked up my bag and keys. The cold metal of the necklace from Chris’ parents rested against the hollow of my throat. I couldn’t entirely explain why I chose to wear it. But it was hidden beneath my scarf, so I didn’t think it mattered.

            At the bottom of the stairs, my neighbor waved. “Do you have a date?” the old man asked.

            I gave him a small smile. “No, just meeting with Sebastian.”

            With that, I strode off down the street. The message I’d received from Sebastian a few hours ago said to meet him at the Farul Constața at six. From there, we were supposed to meet Chris at a little Lebanese place called La Tama. It was five-forty when I caught a taxi toward the city.

            On the way, I tried to get myself together. I tried to steel my nerves so that Chris wouldn’t see me afraid or panicked. Most of all, I didn’t want him to see how much I missed him.

 

            The cab dropped me off at the lighthouse just before six, and I found a place on a stone bench to wait for Sebastian. I looked up at the sky as the light faded into nighttime. The air was crisp and cool, a soft breeze ruffling my hair against my cheek. After a while, I heard the sound of voices getting closer. I didn’t bother getting upset.

            When it came to Sebastian and Chris, I was used to being left out of the loop until it was too late.

            I stood as the two of them came into view. Chris looked much the same as before. His beard was a little longer and thicker, so was the hair that was hidden behind his backwards turned ball cap. His broad frame was barely hidden beneath a black leather jacket and blue flannel button up. I thought I saw the collar of a white t-shirt beneath. A pair of aviators hung over the top button of his shirt. Dark-wash jeans settled around his hips, held up by a red D-ring belt. His face looked a pale and a bit thinner than before.

            Sebastian had cut his hair.

            I knew the moment when Chris caught sight of me. He stopped in his tracks, his eyes going wide. Something golden and warm—something I thought I’d never feel again—settled into my soul. I took a few steps toward them, trying to hold my head up as high as I could without letting him know how much my stomach was turning.

            For the first time in months, Chris Evans and I stood toe-to-toe. Part of me wanted to slap him. Part of me wanted to kiss him.

            “You have ten minutes,” I said calmly. It took every bit of my self-control to keep from shouting. To hide the tears that were threatening to break my voice in two.

            Chris didn’t speak. His eyes roved over my face, drinking in my features. I watched his fingers twitch as if he wanted to reach out and touch me. I tried to ignore the way warmth radiated off him, the way the scent of his body and cologne settled around me like a cloud.

            “Now it’s nine.”

            He shook his head as if trying to clear away cobwebs. He was silent another moment before he gestured back toward the stone benches. “Can we sit and talk? Please?”

            I glanced toward Sebastian, who stood in the background with his hands stuffed in his pockets. He shrugged. So did I.

            Chris led the way toward the bench and waited for me to take a seat first. I sat on the edge, as far from him as I could. For a moment, I was thrown back to that first morning when he’d brought coffee and muffins to the hotel in Boston. I tried not to smile.

            He opened his mouth once or twice, trying to figure out what to say. I wanted to tell him his time was ticking, but the way his eyes glazed over with tears made me hold off. Could he have been telling the truth after all? Had I let my fear and my anxiety get the best of me?

            “The woman you heard on the phone that night… Her name is Hannah Bardsley.” He paused, his hands scrunching up his beard. “I’ve known her for years. She grew up with us. And she’s the younger sister of one of my best friends, Matt.”

            He put his hand against his ribs, over a spot where I knew there was a tattoo. The image of it flashed into my mind, clicking into place. I knew the last name Bardsley.

            “She was having a baby, Tati. And I loved her brother like he was my blood, so she’s my blood too. Me and some of Matt’s old buddies… we went to see her, check on her. I fell asleep in the chair and she answered my phone.” He hung his head. “You hadn’t met her yet, so she didn’t know who you were. I didn’t mean…”

            I looked from him to Sebastian. My cousin looked slightly ill, but it was clear he’d heard this explanation already.

            “Do you know if this is true?” I asked my cousin in quick Romanian.

            Sebastian nodded quickly before replying, sharing his source. “His mom.”

            La dracu. Fuck.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

 

            It took a moment for the words to sink in. It was like my brain was working on reserve power too low to really think through what I was hearing. I blamed the whiskey from the night before.

            “Chris…” Words failed me. There was something deep inside me that knew he was telling the truth, especially if Sebastian had confirmed it with Chris’ mother. And yet there was a part of me that stayed wrapped in hurt and fear, panic and anxiety. I had opened my heart and done it so completely that I didn’t know if I could ever recover from the feeling of being let down.

            Footsteps scraped on stone. I looked up to see Sebastian slowly meandering toward the lighthouse, leaving Chris and I alone in the falling dark. Spotlights blazed behind us, lighting up the building for everyone nearby to see. The light fell over Chris’ features, and I saw the hurt in his eyes, the fear that I was lost to him forever. I knew my face mirrored his in its emotions.

            My palm brushed his cheek, fingers sliding into the warmth of his beard. His eyes fluttered closed, those too-long lashes casting shadows. For a moment, I couldn’t bring myself to do more. My world was too busy shifting to accommodate this new reality. He had truly done nothing wrong, nothing to hurt me. All the pain and heartbreak I’d suffered for the past few months had been all my own doing. If I had answered only that first message, if I had let him explain that first night… none of this would have happened.

            I pressed my forehead against his, letting my other hand come up to cup his cheek. I held him close, trying to find the words to beg for his forgiveness.

            “Tatiana Dalca,” he whispered softly. His breath ruffled my hair and kissed along my skin. “I will never love anyone the way I love you. There is no one else in this world for me. If you don’t want me—”

            I couldn’t bear to hear those words, for him to offer a way out of something that I’d wanted since the day we met. Instead, I tilted forward and pressed our lips together. So much time had passed and yet it seemed as if we had only been apart a few hours. His kiss was soft and hesitant, his hands resting on the bench on either side of my legs. That golden feeling of acasǎ—of home—seeped into my veins and coated my bones. Tears burned against the backs of my eyelids as shame flooded into me.

            My lips brushed against his cheek, feeling the softness of his beard. I drew him against me, silently begging for him to hold me, to wrap me in the warmth and safety of his arms that I had missed so much.

            “I’m so sorry, Chris,” I whispered against his ear. “I’m sorry I was stupid and jealous and stubborn and afraid and scared and I love you so much it makes me ache inside and I’ve missed you so much.”

            The words poured out of me. Tremors ran along my nerves until my whole body shuddered with fear. Sobs worked their way from my throat, the rivulets of tears ruining my makeup as they slid down my cheeks.

            At last… oh, thank Zeu… at last, Chris wrapped his arms around me. He drew me close to him, burying his fingers in my hair and pressing his face to my neck. I let him hold me just as I held him. The feeling of coming home, of finally being where I was supposed to be, enveloped me in a haze of warmth and comfort.

            For a while, we were quiet. It was as if we were trying to find who we were together again. I knew that it would take time for me to be open with him again, to let myself truly open up completely once more. I had given over everything I had to him more quickly that I would have liked to admit. The hurt—even though it wasn’t his fault—would make me more cautious this time.

            “God, I’ve fucking missed you,” he growled as he held me tighter. I could smell his cologne and the scent of the shampoo he used. “I’m so sorry, Tati.”

            I pulled away enough to look him in the eyes. “This is my fault, Chris. I let my fears get the best of me. As happy as I was… I never thought I was good enough for you.”

            He held my face gently in his hands, his thumbs brushing across my cheekbones. “Tu ești inima și sufletul meu.”

            I couldn’t help the smile that spread over my face. “When did you learn Romanian?”

            Chris grinned and brushed his lips against mine again. “I told you I was going to learn that fucking language, didn’t I?”

            An image of Chris with the phrasebook I’d bought him for Christmas bubbled to the surface of my thoughts. It was sweet, given how horrible I’d been to him. What made it even better was the sound of my native tongue in his Boston accent.

            “I’ve missed you,” I admitted quietly. My heart pounded in my chest. It wasn’t what I wanted to say, but it was enough at the moment. It was enough to let him know that I still wanted and needed him.

            He gathered me close again. His nose nuzzled against my hair, his breath brushing against my cheek. My eyes fluttered shut as I settled into his hold. It felt so wonderful to be in his arms once again. More than I could ever find the words to express. It was perfect.

            “I know we need time. I know you need time. And that’s fine with me.” His palm ran along the outside of my thigh in a familiar, emotionally intimate sort of way. “I promised you once that I would never ask for more than you could give, and I stand by it. You call the shots, Tati. Always.”

            Before I could open my mouth to speak, my stomach let out a rumble. Heat rushed through my cheeks.

            “Apparently the first shot is food,” came Sebastian’s voice from nearby. “I heard that all the way over here.”

            I couldn’t help but laugh. Of course, Sebastian hadn’t been far away. As much as I knew he wanted Chris and I together—happily and healthy together—he was enough my frate-vǎr that he wouldn’t leave the two of us alone while we were upset. He was wonderful like that.

            Chris looked at me as if he had heard the most beautiful music. Like a symphony had taken their places before him and started playing the great classics of the harp and violin. His thumb stroked my chin. His eyes fixed on my lips. I licked them nervously, my gaze hidden beneath hooded lashes.

            He let out a faint growl-like sigh of exasperation. A phrase from somewhere in my memory floated through my mind. It does things to me. For a while, I’d forgotten the effect I could have on him with the gentlest, most innocent of expressions.

            I stood and held out my hand to him. “Come on, let’s go eat. Then I suppose I could show you where I live.”

            In that moment, he looked as if I had just given him the world. He slipped his fingers in the spaces between mine and stood beside me. He was so tall and broad, everything about him sturdy and sure. And yet I saw the uncertainty in the tightness around his eyes. For the first time, I realized how worried he had been about this meeting. While I had torn my own heart apart with fear and jealousy, I had done the same to him.

            I had a great deal to beg his forgiveness for while he was in town. But before I did, I just wanted to show him that he was welcome in Constanta. That he was welcome in my life again.

            “You’re going to love Spring in Romania,” I said with a grin.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

 

            Dinner at La Tama was far less awkward than I expected. We had a little table near the back of the restaurant. I sat on one side against the wall. Chris sat beside me, and Sebastian sat across from us. The aroma of Lebanese food turned my stomach into one grumbling, growling pit of want. It all smelled so good!

            While we waited for our food, I couldn’t help but watch Chris. The lines around his eyes had gotten a little more pronounced. Their blue was just a bit darker than I remembered, and I could have sworn that there were some grey strands in his beard. Before I could stop myself, I reached out to smooth down a bit of his sideburns. Warmth rushed through me when his eyes dropped shut at my touch.

            “Are you all right?” My voice was soft as I stroked my fingers along the line of his jaw. I’d forgotten how wonderful his beard felt.

            He hummed quietly. “I am now.”

            I smiled and leaned my head against his shoulder. Across the table, Sebastian watched us with a faint smile. There was something in his eyes that made me worried.

            “Everything okay, Seb?” I asked in Romanian. Chris wrapped his fingers around mine, bringing them to his lips. His little chuckle was enough to let me know he hadn’t mastered Romanian yet.

            My cousin made a face. “If you’re happy, I’m happy. I’m just afraid of you getting hurt again.”

            “I did that to myself. If there’s anyone you should be worried about, it’s him.” My gaze slid sideways to Chris, who sat with my hand in his and a soft smile. “I broke his heart. Not the other way around.”

            Before he could reply, the waiter brought our food. I wriggled my fingers from Chris’ grasp to dig in. He made a grunting noise but reached for his own food.

            “Trust me,” I said with a grin. “This food is absolutely worth it.”

            The three of us sat in silence for a few minutes as we ate. I had gotten the shish taouk and nearly fell over in pleasure after the first bite. I must have been hungrier than I thought.

            “That smells good,” Chris said from beside me. He had a beef shawarma with a side of pita chips that smelled just as good as mine.

            Sebastian nearly choked on his food and held out his hand toward Chris. “If you value your life or your hand, you will _not_ reach for that plate.”

            Chris quirked a brow in my direction. I wrapped my arms around my plate to protect it from his grabby hands. “I do not share shish taouk. With anybody. Not even _bunicǎ_.”

            My cousin nodded his agreement, stuffing his face with falafel. “And our grandmother, Chris, she’s this adorable old Romanian lady. Cooks like a magician. Sweet as can be. But Tatiana will tear her little arthritic fingers off before she’ll let Grandmother get a hand on that chicken.”

            Chris laughed, one of his deep belly laughs that left him with his hand over his heart. His cheeks went pink, and he seemed to be trying not to slam the table with his hand. I did my best to keep a straight face as I finished my first skewer.

            “It’s true. I’ll share just about anything else, but not _La Tama’s_ shish taouk.”

            He hooked his arm around my neck and drew me close. I felt his lips press against my hair and stay there. Gold and silver and light and starshine washed through my body and soul.

            It was the happiest dinner I’d had in a very long time.

 

            A few hours later, we stood on the street outside the restaurant. The sky above twinkled with stars. I searched for the North Star, but the lights from the city washed out the sky too much to distinguish one from another. I closed my eyes, feeling the cool evening breeze brush through my hair. The quiet settled around me, letting me be in the moment for just a little while.

            A pair of warm, steady arms came around my shoulders. The soft scratch of a beard brushed my cheek. The gentle rush of breath tickled my ear, making the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I gave myself permission to sink back against Chris’ chest. His body was still solid and radiated heat like nobody’s business.

            Time seemed to slip by as we stood that way. I didn’t care what people thought or how it looked. I just knew that I felt safe in his arms. That I had missed this feeling more than I would ever admit.

            I curled my fingers around his arms to keep him close. “Can we pick up where we left off? Please?”

            I felt his smile against my cheek. He pressed his lips to my temple and gave me a firm squeeze. “I’d like that.”

            My body moved before my mind made the choice. Before I knew it, I had my palms pressed to his broad chest. He looked down at me with something unspoken in his gaze. I couldn’t understand how he appeared so beautiful to me. Nothing had really changed. And yet he looked like some otherworldly thing—some gift from the gods just for me. I smiled at the thought.

            He grinned back. “What are you grinning at?”

            I didn’t bother answering. Instead, I lifted onto my toes and curled my arms around his neck. My fingers tugged his cap away, letting his newly long hair tangle free. I pushed my fingers through it, gripping gently as I drew his mouth to mine.

            The touch of his lips set my nerves on fire. I gave a little sigh as his tongue flicked against my bottom lip. His arms tightened against the small of my back, lifting me a little off the ground. I didn’t care if anyone saw or took pictures or sold a story to the rags. All that mattered was that he was here, and he was mine and I was his.

            When we parted, his eyes didn’t open immediately. He held me close and whispered, almost as if he were praying.

            “What did I do to deserve you?”

            My heart skipped a beat or two. Blood rushed into my face, turning my skin bright pink. And yet I felt wonderfully light and beautiful in that moment.

            I kissed the corner of his mouth and smiled. “I’ve been asking the same thing since the day we met.”

            When he finally sat me down, I settled his cap over my hair and reached for his hand. He grinned in a boyishly-roguish way. He tucked his other hand in his pocket and started bouncing on the balls of his feet.

            “Where’s Seb? It’s getting cold out here.”

            Just then, a cab pulled up to the curb. The rear window rolled down and my cousin’s head popped out. He smirked.

            “Get in, nerds. We’re going to Little Dalca’s for drinks!” He dangled a bag of what I could only imagine was booze out the window.

            Chris and I looked at one another and shrugged. “All right, man. But I’m not getting wasted.”

            I rolled my eyes. “Lightweight.”

            Sebastian slid over as I squeezed in to the middle seat. It wasn’t going to be comfortable being wedged between the two behemoths of Sebastian and Chris, but at least it would be warm.

            The door shut, and Sebastian told the driver my address. Chris stretched his arm against the back of the seat. I snuggled against his side.

            “Lightweight, huh?” he murmured.

            I gave a noncommittal grunt. He was warm and smelled divine. If I wasn’t careful I would fall asleep on the way home.

            As I drifted off, I heard Sebastian’s voice. “Little Dalca could drink us both under the table without trying.”

            I grinned in my sleep, knowing it was true.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

 

            I flicked the light on in my living room as the three of us stumbled through the door. Tugging off my coat, I waved Chris and Sebastian in. Sebastian took off toward the kitchen to unload the alcohol. Chris stood in the foyer with his hands in his pockets.

            “Give me a minute to get changed,” I said quietly. “Make yourself at home, Chris.”

            He grinned at me before shrugging out of his leather jacket and hanging it on a hook on the wall. I scuttled off toward my bedroom. Once there, I shut the door behind me and leaned against it. Even in the headiest days of our winter romance, I had never imagined Chris would be in my home. Now that he was, I didn’t know what to do with myself.

            Taking a deep breath, I slipped out of my dress clothes and into a set of warm leggings and an oversized t-shirt. I twisted my hair up into a ponytail and pulled on a pair of thick fleece socks. Almost as an afterthought, I switched out his mother’s Christmas gift for the medallion of St. Christopher he’d given me. I gave myself one last glance in the mirror—making sure I looked just cute enough to not look slobby—before flouncing back into the main area.

            Sebastian had set up tumblers on the table with bottles of various libations. Somewhere, he’d gotten limes. _Zeu_ , I thought, _looks like we’re doing tequila shots._

            Chris was looking at a wall of family photos by the window. He had his arms crossed over his chest, making the muscles of his biceps more pronounced. The unfairness that was his eyelashes stood out against the light filtering in from the street outside. I leaned against the doorframe and just watched him for a moment, marveling in the fact that he was here again.

            “Hey, Seb, who’s this—” Chris turned, his finger pointing to a snapshot of Sebastian and I on the beach with my parents. He caught sight of me, and his Adam’s apple bobbed in this throat.

            Heat rushed into my cheeks. I looked away, slightly ashamed to have been caught staring at him. My fingers twisted nervously in the edge of my t-shirt. My heart jumped in my chest as I thought of the expression on his face when he saw me.

            Chris’ body filled my vision. His finger and thumb gripped my chin gently, tilting my face up to meet his gaze. I saw the tip of his tongue dart out to brush his bottom lip. A shiver ran down my spine.

            There was nothing else in the world but him. His warmth and the scent of his cologne and how he radiated peace and calm. I wanted to close my eyes and fall into his arms and stay there forever.

            “You’re more beautiful than I remembered,” he murmured. His eyes roved along my face, settling on my mouth. “And I remember you as breathtaking.”

            I smiled, just a little curve at the corners of my lips. Joy bled into my soul.

            The world stretched out into infinity as we stood there, lost in each other’s gaze. I wanted him to kiss me. To take me away from everything, where it could just be the two of us together forever. My palm pressed against his chest, felt his heart beating a chaotic rhythm against his ribs. I knew my own pulse was racing just as much.

            “You two! Stop staring at each other and come have drinks.” Sebastian’s voice broke through the forcefield of silence around us.

            Chris sighed, the corner of his mouth tipping upward. He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead before taking my hand and leading me to the table.

            “Do you intend on getting us all drunk?” Chris asked incredulously.

            My cousin laughed. “Getting drunk is on you, buddy. We’re celebrating the fact that you two got over yourselves and fixed this mess.”

            Sebastian handed me a shot of something that wasn’t tequila. I took a sniff and glared.

            “Did you get into my stash?”

            He chuckled. “It isn’t much of a stash, Little Dalca. But yes. Just drink it.”

            I looked to Chris, who had a shot of his own. With a shrug, I clinked my glass with his and knocked it back. My nose scrunched up as I swallowed. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Chris give a nod of appreciation as he finished his own.

            “Good!” Sebastian exclaimed. “Now, on to the real party.”

 

            It was after midnight when my stupid cousin passed out on the sofa. The limes were gone and so was half a bottle of tequila and cherry vodka. Chris was still on his feet so to speak, but it was pretty clear he wasn’t going to make it much longer. I was leaned back in my chair, my feet propped up in Chris’ lap. I had gone a little slower than the boys.

            “I thought I’d never see you again,” Chris mumbled. He ran his hands up and down my legs. “When I saw you tonight, I thought I’d die.”

            I wriggled my toes at him. “Good thing you didn’t.” My expression sobered quickly. “I’m sorry, Chris. For how I acted.”

            He shook his head firmly. “No. Don’t apologize. Important thing is…” He stopped talking and waved his hand between the two of us. I got his meaning.

            Grinning softly, I stood up and tried to pull Chris to his feet. “Come on, meatball. Time for you to hit the hay.”

            After a moment, he pulled himself to his feet. I draped his arm around my shoulders and helped him navigate through the apartment to the bedroom. Once I got him to the bed, I tugged off his shoes and socks and put his aviators on the bedside table.

            “Make yourself comfortable,” I whispered, brushing a kiss against his forehead. “I’m just going to go make sure everything is locked up.”

            He grunted his understanding and leaned back against the pillows. I tiptoed through the apartment, making sure the windows and the front door were bolted tightly. I cleaned away some of the mess on the table.

            When I finally made it back to the bedroom, Chris was sitting on the end of the bed. He’d pulled off his button up and t-shirt. For a long moment, I couldn’t help but stare at his lightly tanned skin. My eyes followed the rise and fall of his muscles, the dusting of hair on his chest, the ink of his tattoos. I didn’t have to look down to see the little V cut above his hips and the thin trail of that disappeared beneath his waistband.

            “Hey,” he whispered gruffly. His eyes looked a little hazy, and it wasn’t hard to tell that his buzz was getting the better of him.

            I padded across the room and ran my fingers gently through his hair. “Hey.”

            His hands settled on my waist, drawing me closer. He pressed his forehead against my chest, his eyes closed. Little tingles ran over my skin as his thumbs rubbed slow circles on my hips. I tried to keep my breath steady as I brushed my fingers along his shoulders and neck.

            “I’ve never gotten over that night.”

            My lips brushed the top of his head. “Hmm?”

            His breath was hot against me as he spoke. “The night in your hotel.”

            My mind flooded my senses with the memory of the night he meant. I remembered the scent of his skin and the feel of his hands and mouth on my body. I remembered how he made me feel invincible and delicate all at once. I remembered how his voice sounded as he took me and the panting of his breath against my neck as he came.

            A molten shudder ran through me as thoughts of that night came rushing back.

            “I haven’t forgotten either.”

            He smiled. He turned his head, his nose brushing against the swell of my breast. I let out a low whimpering moan. He chuckled darkly.

            “How drunk are you, Tati?” he asked softly.

            My breath hitched. My body shivered. “Sober enough to say ‘yes,’ if that’s what you mean.”

            He grinned, lifting me into his lap. “Good.”

            His mouth settled on mine, his lips and tongue taking dominance as he held me against him. My whole body turned to mush as he made the world implode around me with just one kiss.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The heat that flooded into my body at that moment was almost more than I could manage. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. There was nothing but the feel of Chris’ hands on my body and his mouth against mine.   
My fingers dug into his hair in tight fists. I couldn’t get close enough, couldn’t feel or taste enough of him. He was everywhere and nowhere at once. Too much and never, ever enough.  
He broke the kiss, panting. His fingers had slipped beneath my shirt and stroked against my skin. He curled his hand around my ribs. In one smooth motion, he flipped me onto my back. His weight settled between my thighs. The heat of his breath rustled over my cheeks, stoking the flame in my body even higher.   
Chris gave me a faint smile before he tugged my shirt up over my breasts. He met my gaze as his mouth descended onto my skin. The sweep of his tongue around my nipple made me arch from the bed. I bit my lip to keep from moaning. He chuckled as he took his time teasing my breasts with his tongue, teeth, and hands.  
When he came up for air, his eyes were bright and shining. His cheeks were flushed pink, his lips parted as he panted. I grinned and finished tugging my shirt over my head. I climbed onto my knees and cupped his face with my palms.  
“I love you, Christopher Evans,” I whispered. The heat of our bodies had warmed the St. Christopher medallion that nestled between my breasts. He wrapped the chain in his fingers and tugged me closer into another searing kiss.  
In another moment, we lay tangled together, clothes strewn across the end of the bed and on the floor. Between laughter and kisses and teasing touches, we whispered our promises of love. 

I watched in pleasure as Chris’ eyes squeezed shut, his face contorted in bliss. My fingers stroked his cock as my mouth dropped little kisses along the thin trail of hair beneath his navel. His hand stroked gently through my hair until I let my lips brush against his length. Then, his fingers tightened almost painfully.   
My mouth replaced my hand, my tongue brushing along the sensitive parts of him, my nails scraping along the soft skin where hip and thigh met. He let out a strangled cry as I picked up my pace.   
The sounds he made send a jolt of power through my entire body. I never knew—never fathomed—how much of an aphrodisiac it was to be able to turn a man like him into putty at my hands. I groaned softly. Chris nearly flexed straight off the bed.   
His hands in my hair gently guided my mouth away from his cock. His chest rose and fell as if he’d just ran a million miles in a single minute. My gaze traveled down his body, and the ache in my core grew stronger with every breath.   
Chris started to say something, but I shushed him with a finger against his lips. Without a word, I straddled his lap, careful to be just close enough to tease. I guided his hands to my waist, let his fingers roam up and down my body. In that moment, I felt more loved and cherished and worshipped than ever before in my life.   
“Please,” he murmured.   
It was more than he needed to say. I let out a little whimper of my own as I reached between us, guided him into place. There was only one thought in my head at that moment—that I wanted him inside me. I wanted it more than anything else I’d ever known.   
He grunted as I sank down slowly. His fingers dug into my waist. I stared into those beautiful blue eyes as I moved.   
Chris wrapped his arms around me, pulled me down against his chest. His kiss burned into me, seared straight into my soul. My whole being seemed wrapped up in the feel of his body and his cock filling me and his arms clutching me tightly.  
Suddenly, I found myself on my back. Above me, Chris grinned. He slid his arms beneath my knees and flexed his hips forward almost savagely. At my first whimper, all his control seemed to shatter.   
I fought to keep quiet as he slammed into me over and over again. Sweat beaded on his forehead, dripped down his neck in slow rivulets. His thrusts became erratic as he chased his release. I whimpered beneath him, desperate for my own.   
His thumb brushed my clit, and the world shattered into a thousand million pieces. I screamed into the pillow as my orgasm slammed through my entire body. Every nerve felt alive, every muscle undulating with waves of pleasure.   
Chris followed soon after, growling low in his throat as he spilled himself inside me. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew I should be concerned about something. But I couldn’t bring myself to be bothered. It felt so wonderful to be in his arms, to be loved so completely and so fully.

The feel of warm arms woke me the next morning. Chris lay curled behind me, his arms wrapped snuggly around my waist. I smiled as I threaded our fingers together. He grunted and moved closer.   
“Morning,” he murmured against the back of my neck.   
I sighed and rolled over in his arms. “Morning.”  
He brushed the end of his nose against mine. His fingers slid along my spine. “You’re so beautiful.”  
I blushed and looked away.  
He captured my lips in a slow, intoxicating kiss. “You’re beautiful. And I love you.”  
From somewhere in the apartment, I heard Sebastian cursing in Romanian. Something along the lines of I’m hungover and there’s no good food in this place and so help me if you two had sex while I was passed out on the sofa I’m going to disown you both. I didn’t feel the need to translate for Chris.  
He chuckled, his eyes crinkling with his smile. “I suppose we should get up.”  
I sat up on my hip, resting my chin on his chest. “He’s a big boy. He can fend for himself.”  
Chris wrapped his arms around me and kissed me gently. “Come on,” he grinned. “I want to make you breakfast.”

When we appeared from the bedroom a few minutes later, Sebastian was nursing a cup of very strong coffee, his head in his hands. He caught sight of us and rolled his eyes.  
“Of course you two got busy,” he grumbled. “At least I didn’t hear it this time.”


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

 

            Chris stayed in Constanta for two weeks. After that first night, he left his apartment and stayed in my apartment.

            It was a strange and wonderful thing to wake up every morning and see him. He slept curled on his side, one arm tucked beneath the pillow, the other draped over my waist. Those impossibly long lashes threw shadows against his cheeks. His coral lips parted with his breath. Sweat darkened the hair at the nape of his neck. The rest stood up at all angles.

            I couldn’t help but reach out to touch him sometimes. It was hard to believe that he was there, all rugged angles and gentle hands. My fingers brushed his cheeks and smoothed his hair away from his face. Most of mornings, I didn’t want to get out of bed to go to work.

            There was something wonderfully domestic about the whole thing. By the time I was ready to leave for work in the morning, Chris was dragging himself awake to go for a run. He would smile at me groggily, his eyes hooded with the remnants of sleep. On my way out the door, I would press a mug of tea into his hands and kiss him softly.

            I never wanted it to end.

 

            “ _Doamnǎ_ Dalca,” whispered little Antonia, tugging on my skirt. I crouched next to her. “There’s a strange man at the door.”

            She pointed toward the classroom door, where Nicolo was speaking with his mother. Behind her stood Chris, a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a canvas bag bulging with something in the other. I blushed and stood.

            “Not a strange man at all, Antonia. That’s my friend, Chris.” I grinned at the little girl. “But very good for knowing what’s going on around you.”

            I tucked my hair behind my ear and smoothed down my skirt as I crossed the room. Nicolo’s mother brightened when she saw me.

            “Ah, Tatiana,” she exclaimed in flightly Romanian. “This young man says he knows you. Oh, he’s handsome, isn’t he? Goodness, he doesn’t speak Romanian, does he?”

            “No,” I responded in kind. “He is a friend of my cousin. And he is my… ah…” I searched for the right word. I didn’t know if we were going with boyfriend just yet.

            “ _Pretendent_ ,” Nicolo said, an edge in his voice.

            _Yes_ , I thought, shrugging. _Chris is my_ suitor.

            My eyes met Chris’ and I saw how confused he must have been. I looked to Nicolo’s mother for confirmation—she was my boss after all. When the older woman nodded, I reached out for Chris’ hand. He grinned with relief and stepped forward, nearly crowding the rest of us out of the doorway.

            He leaned down to kiss my cheek. “I hope this isn’t a problem. I… I don’t know how teachers have it here, but… I have... um… gifts.”

            A blush turned his tanned skin rose hued. It made my heart melt.

            “I can see that,” I murmured, taking the flowers he offered. “They’re beautiful. I’ll put them on my desk.” I jerked my head at the canvas bag. “What’s in there?”

            His smile broadened. “I know American teachers don’t always have enough materials. So, I kind of bought out a craft store.”

            Chris opened the bag. Inside were paints, paintbrushes, crayons, markers, art paper, beads, string, glitter, glue, pencils, fluff balls, googly eyes, punch-out planets, stars, flowers, animals, and letters. There were empty plastic jars and globes for terrariums and solar models. The things he’d stuffed in that bag would supply our students for months. It was almost too generous.

            “Oh, Chris,” I whispered, tears springing into my eyes. I fought the urge to throw my arms around him and kiss him right then and there.

            The corner of his mouth lifted in a soft smile. “I talked to Seb about the school. About your life here. He didn’t tell me too much, but he told me you love it here. So, I have one more gift.”

            He held out a sealed envelope to Nicolo’s mother. Nervousness made his hands shake. He looked to me.

            “It’s a gift from Chris,” I told my boss in Romanian. “For the school, I think.”

            I watched as the older woman opened the envelope. The color drained from her face as she clutched the paper to her chest. She looked as if she were about to have a heart attack. Nicolo leapt toward his mother, ready to catch her should she faint.

            She started speaking at Chris. Her words were a rush of syllables that were almost too fast for me to catch. She squished his face in her wrinkled hands and kissed both his cheeks, still prattling on in Romanian.

            At last, I was able to make out what she was saying. I thought I was going to faint myself. Chris had given her a note from a local bank—as close to a check a foreigner could use—for almost 57,000 leu. _Fifteen thousand dollars_.

            Tears rushed down my cheeks. Nicolo and his mother stood there in stunned silence. Chris smiled nervously, holding the bag in front of him with shaking fingers.

            “Tell her I want to sponsor the school. If that’s okay. Whatever you need. I’m just a call away.”

            I shared his words with Nicolo and his mother. They both looked as if they were about to hit the floor. I had to admit, I felt pretty much the same. They expressed their thanks, Nicolo with a handshake and his mother with another face-squishing set of cheek kisses.

            In the interim, the students had started inching closer to us. They looked at Chris with curious expressions. Some had gotten up the courage to get close enough to peek into his bag. They let out little whoops of joy when they saw all the art supplies.

            “ _DI_ , _DI_ ,” little Antonia cried, tugging at Chris’ belt. She spoke in rapid, lilting Romanian. “Is this for us?”

            Chris looked down at her, something otherworldly shining in his eyes. For a moment, my heart skipped a beat. A half-formed image danced through my mind. Chris with a bundle of green blankets in his arms, a tiny fist waving from the folds, a proud smile on his lips.

            “Are these for you?” he guessed.

            Antonia nodded vehemently. She switched to a hesitant and heavily lisped English. “Reawwy?”

            He chuckled, a deep sound that had honey and light infused inside it.

            “Yes, really. Would you like to draw something?”

            She grinned. So did he. Her tiny hand disappeared in his larger one as he let her lead him to the art center. Antonia called out to the other children, telling them they had gifts and be extra careful because _Doamnǎ_ Dalca’s _DI_ brought them.

            In a matter of moments, Chris sat in my usual spot at the art table. His frame was far too big for the small chair and semi-circle desk. And yet he folded himself in with the children, carefully laying out art paper and sitting a box of crayons in front of each child. Their little faces lit up with glee. Most of the time, they hand to share. Now, thanks to Chris, they each had an art set of their very own.

            My heart swelled until I didn’t think my chest could hold it any longer. I knew beyond all doubt and fear, that I loved Chris Evans with all my heart. And when he lifted his head and met my gaze, I discovered a new and seductive truth.

            I wanted to be his forever.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

 

            “How are we going to make this work,” I whispered into the dark.

            Chris tightened his arms around me. His breath rustled against my ear as he hugged me close. “I have the money to fly, Tati. Coming here to see you… to be in your world… it’s worth the long-as-hell flight.”

            I chuckled softly. “You have a life in Boston, Chris. I would never ask you to give any of that up.” My heart thumped in my chest. “You’ve seen my life here. I… I don’t know if I can leave it.”

            He pressed gentle kisses along the nape of my neck. His presence was reassuring, even as I grappled with the doubt of how our future would come together. There was something about his touch that spoke to a primal part of me—a part that wanted to be assured that he was there, that he wanted to try, that he wanted _me_.

            “I don’t want you to leave it. The school, the students. They need you. I could never take you away from that.” His fingers brushed through my hair. I let out a sigh of contentment. “I know you’re happy here.”

            For a moment, my eyes burned with tears. I rolled over in his arms. My fingers slid along his cheek, thumb brushing against his bottom lip. “I’m happy with you, Chris. I never dreamed I could be this happy. You… are… _everything_ to me.”

            He caught my thumb between his teeth and bit gently. Something throbbed low in my belly. His eyes searched my face, their hue darkening to sea-glass green.

            “No,” he said carefully. I felt his arms circle me tighter, draw me into his chest. “No, don’t say I’m everything. Don’t let me _be_ everything.” He kissed my forehead reverently and stroked his thumb along my spine. “You are a wonderful woman. Strong. Intelligent. Fierce. Beautiful. So full of love and life and joy. I want to be part of your life, to witness the wonderful things that you are going to do in this world. I’ve seen what happens when you pin your happiness on someone else, Tatiana.”

            His eyes went distant. For a moment, I felt as if I’d lost him. I wondered what happened to make him so sad. And yet, I understood what he meant. I knew with absolute certainty that I loved him and that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. I wanted to go through life at his side, to help him, love him, and do my best to make him happy. But I wanted to have my dreams, to be a person with my own thoughts and desires and interests.

            I suppose that’s what love really was: two people molding and merging their lives together into one. Complementing and supporting one another as whole people.

            With a nod, I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his. It was something slow and gentle, a reassurance of understanding and peace.

            “My calendar is clear for a while,” Chris said at last. He brushed my hair back and nuzzled against my neck. I giggled as he inhaled the scent of my skin. “Perks of being an actor, I suppose. How about I change my ticket and stay another few weeks?”

            I didn’t need to look at him to know that it wasn’t truly a question. The deed had already been done. I could put off the thoughts of saying goodbye and going home to a cold bed.

            I pressed a kiss to the side of his head and smiled. “We’re taking the kids to the aquarium this week. Would you like to come?”

            Chris chuckled and kissed his way up my throat. When he looked at me, it was as if the whole world was in his eyes. “I’d love to.”

 

            I waited at the coffee shop on the corner, sipping on a latte with a shot of espresso and waiting for my cousin. Sebastian was heading to Los Angeles for a few days to do an audition for a role and wanted to see me before he left. He was supposed to be there at nine, and it was already quarter to ten.

            In a huff, Sebastian came jogging up to the table. He had a ball cap pulled low, a fleece jacket, and sweatpants. He grinned sheepishly as he leaned to kiss my cheek. “I’m sorry,” he said in low Romanian. “I overslept.”

            I rolled my eyes. “Sure,” I responded in kind. “When does your flight leave?”

            “This evening. But I wanted to see you before I left.” He gave me a firm look. “Just you.”

            “Chris is back at the apartment. He went to the aquarium with us yesterday and the kids wore him out.” I grinned at the memory of Chris taking turns carrying the students on his shoulders. Little Antonia had taken quite a liking to Chris and insisted on walking with him the entire time. “He had to read the story for naptime when we came back. I think he slept harder than they did.”

            Sebastian smiled, a genuine kind of smile that made his entire face light up. “You’re happy, aren’t you? Both of you?”

            I nodded. “Yes. Very much.”

            “Good,” my cousin said. “At least I know you’re in good hands.”

            A memory of darkness and whispers and the feel of warm hands and deft fingers on my thighs made blood rush into my face. I knew full well those weren’t the “good hands” that Sebastian meant.

            “This audition is basically a formality according to my agent. They’ve pretty much decided they want me for it. It’s just getting them to agree on contract details.” He reached over and picked up my coffee, surprised when he saw that the order scribbled on the side wasn’t my usual. He sniffed it and made a face. “I want to make sure you’re going to be okay if I have to stay in LA to start pre-production.”

            I laughed. “Seb, I’ve lived alone in Constanta for what—six or seven years now? I’m a big girl.” I reached for his hand and squeezed his fingers. “But I know what you mean. And I’m thankful you try to take care of me.”

            He nodded and excused himself to get something to drink. While he was gone, I sent a quick text to Chris letting him know where I’d gone. In the past week and a half, he’d made my apartment a home away from home for himself. His toiletries had started encroaching on the sink, his clothes mixed in with mine in the closet. I’d thought he was going to faint when I did his laundry.

            Sebastian sat a cup on the table and flopped back into the chair across the table. He took a sip of his drink and looked me over. A little furrow appeared between his brows.

            “What?” I asked worriedly.

            He sat forward, staring at me intently. “Something about you is different.”

            I shrugged, not knowing what he meant. “This is a new shirt. But I think I got the wrong size. It’s a little tight.”

            Seemingly satisfied, Sebastian sat back just as the barista brought over an egg, bacon, and cheese bagel. For some reason, the bacon smelled heavenly to me just then. My mouth began to water outrageously. I felt like my stomach was going to turn itself inside out if I didn’t get some immediately.

            “God, that smells amazing!” I exclaimed. “I want three.”

            I jumped up and zipped toward the line to order my own. From somewhere far behind, I heard Sebastian mumble. “Maybe that’s why your shirt is tight, Little Dalca!”


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

 

            As the days turned into weeks and the weeks stretched to nearly a month, Chris and I settled into a routine. I worked during the day, getting up at six to be at work by half past seven. Chris would get up and go for a run. Sometimes he would go to the gym down the street that offered time for a few _leu_ a day. He would go back to the apartment and then meet me at the school for lunch. Most of the time, he brought something he’d made. Once he had shish taouk from _La Tama_. He read to the kids at nap time and helped keep an eye them on the playground. At the end of the day, we walked back to the apartment together—his arm draped around my shoulders to hold me against him. I showered, and he cooked. Sometimes we watched movies or television. Sometimes we just sat and talked late into the night.

            And sometimes, we wasted hours in bed together. I got lost in his eyes and his hands and the way that he held me and made me forget my own name in pleasure.

           

            It was the third Saturday since Chris had come to Romania. I’d woken up before him and climbed out of bed to go to the bathroom. I stopped at the end of the bed to watch Chris sleep. He lay stretched out on his stomach, his face turned toward my side of the bed. One of his feet stuck out from beneath the blankets. I smiled and tiptoed into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me quietly.

            I’d always thought the lights above my sink were too bright. They washed out my skin and made me look sick and pale. It was almost impossible to tell whether my makeup was on properly under those lights. I either put on way too much and looked orange, or I put on too little and looked splotchy when I went outside.

            When I looked into the mirror, I was surprised to find that I liked what stared back at me. There was something a little softer in my jawline. My eyes seemed a bit brighter, the green in them a little more pronounced.

            For a moment, I just stared at myself in the mirror. I understood what Sebastian said before he left for LA. There _was_ something different about me, but I couldn’t figure it out. I put it down to the rush of spring love.

            I padded into the kitchen and started a pot of coffee. Then I rummaged around in the fridge for something to eat. Bacon sounded wonderful, but I’d settle for sausage. I wouldn’t pass up fried ham either. My stomach grumbled.

            Behind me, Chris laughed. “You worked up an appetite last night, huh?”

            I glanced at him over my shoulder and grinned. “Since you made me do all the work.”

            He feigned shock, lips parted, and a hand pressed to his heart. “I believe it was _your_ idea, Miss Dalca.”

            “I never said it wasn’t, Mr. Evans,” I shot back.

            We moved around one another in a comfortable silence as we made breakfast. Eggs fried in one pan while bacon crisped in another. Chris had half-crawled into the fridge looking for the raspberry marmalade he swore had been there the day before. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I’d eaten the last of it on toast at four in the morning.

            I opened the window over the street before we sat down to eat. Coffee in one hand and fork in the other, I went from one thing on the plate to another faster than I could breathe. Chris watched with a concerned sort of fascination as I ate.

            “What,” I asked, mouth half full of bacon.

            Chris’ expression formed into something awestruck. He reached out and brushed his fingers against my cheek. His thumb brushed along the fullness of my lips and traced the line of my jaw. He gave a sigh of contentment as his fingers slipped into my hair.

            “I don’t think you’ve ever been more beautiful than you are right now.” His voice was soft and gravely. It was impossibly sexy.

            I blushed, the heat blazing across my cheeks. I bit my lip and looked away, shying from the earnestness in his voice. He gently tilted my face to meet my eyes.

            “Really,” he whispered. “You are breathtaking. There are no words to describe how I see you, Tati. Only that there is nothing in this world that I’d rather see than you.”

            “You’re just seeing me at a really good time of the month,” I said, trying to distract him. The earnestness in his gaze was almost too much to bear. “I look my best right before my…”

            I stopped. My fork clattered to the table. I nearly spilled my coffee all over my plate. Chris’ brows furrowed in a mask of concern. “Tati? Are you okay? Tatiana?”

            The wheels in my mind started turning, pieces clicking together one after the other. I tried to connect the dots of the last month and a half. I counted squares on the calendar forming in my mind.

            “ _Rahat_ ,” I muttered. I said it again and again, switching back and forth from English to Romanian faster than I ever thought possible.

            Through it all, Chris sat at the table with a stricken expression. He waited patiently, although I could see the tension bunching in his muscles and twitching in his fingers. When I jumped to my feet, he followed, trailing behind me as I went to the bedroom in search of clothes.

            “Tati, what’s wrong? What can I do?”

            The fear in his voice snapped me back to reality. I wasn’t sure, nowhere close, so it wouldn’t do any good to say anything. I tried my best to smile as I snatched a pair of sweatpants from the closet.

            “Nothing, really.” I worked to make sure my voice was light and relaxed. “I promise. I just remembered that I need to run to the corner store. Go finish breakfast. I’ll be back before you know it.”

            He didn’t look convinced, but he nodded anyway. He watched me as I grabbed up my wallet and pulled on a coat. I could feel his eyes on me even after I shut the apartment door behind me.

            My mind whirred so fast that I didn’t notice that I’d made it to the sidewalk. There was a sick feeling in my throat. Butterflies fluttered through my stomach. I moved in a daze. I took two wrong turns and went past the store three times before I finally made it inside.

            I ducked through several aisles until I found one of the girls who worked there. My fingers were shaking as I tapped her shoulder.

            She looked up and smiled. “Yes, ma’am?”

            I looked away nervously. I drew a deep breath. “I’m sorry to bother you,” I whispered before asking for what I needed.

            The girl pointed me on my way. She even asked if I was okay. I nodded absently and stared up at the signs over the aisles until I found what I needed.

            I thought I was going to throw up in the candy rack as I dropped the pregnancy test on the counter.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

 

            When I came back to the apartment, Chris hadn’t moved a muscle. He was still there at the table, uneaten food going cold. There was a furrow of concern and fear between his brows. His hands were folded beneath his chin as he stared at something beyond the slowly congealing bacon grease on his plate. He jumped at the sound of the door.

            “Tati?” His voice was thin and cracked. The expression of pure worry on his face stabbed a knife of guilt straight into my chest. “Are you okay?”

            My heart hammered in my chest. The guilt and the terror rose up my throat like bile as I crossed the room. I’d thought over what I would say as I walked back from the corner store. There was so much going on in my head, so much noise and so many visions of worst case scenarios taking control of my thoughts. I didn’t want to ruin what Chris and I were rebuilding. Everything was so new and fragile that I was terrified that it would all come crashing down again.

            I stuck my hand in my coat pocket and pulled out the pregnancy test I’d bought. Without a word, I sat it on the table, tears starting to blur my vision. I hung my head, not knowing how to face him knowing that I’d done something so stupid as to get us into this situation. Anxiety twisted in my stomach as I clutched my fingers in my lap.

            Across the table, Chris cleared his throat. I heard the sound of his calloused hand running over his beard. “Have you taken it yet?”

            I shook my head, unable to meet his gaze. Even if I was wrong—if I’d miscounted or if the stress of missing Chris had delayed my period—there would always be this shadow of worry around us. Would he wonder every time we had sex if something would go wrong and he’d be saddled with a baby?

            The floorboards creaked beneath his weight as he moved around the table. His bare feet came into view. Chris knelt on the floor beside me and reached for me. His fingers tucked my hair back and settled against my cheek. His thumb brushed my skin, wiping away my tears.

            “Tatiana, look at me.” He said it softly, but with enough confidence and command that I glanced toward him. “You don’t have to be afraid. Or guilty or ashamed. Whatever the test says, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

            I nodded weakly, even though I didn’t really believe it.

            Chris stood, drawing me to my feet. He grabbed the test and lead me through the apartment to the bathroom. His fingers were gentle as he placed the box in my hand. A soft flutter of air preluded the feel of his lips against my forehead. He cradled my head in his hand as he held me in his arms.

            “It’s all right. Whatever the test says, it doesn’t change how I feel or what I want with you.”

            His words whispered through my brain and soaked into my veins. I drew a heavy breath into my lungs and stepped into the bathroom. Chris gave me a soft smile just before I shut the door.

            My fingers trembled, and I thought I was going to be sick. The sound of ripping cardboard grated on my nerves. I hovered over the toilet, gasping for breath as I tried to hold back vomit and tears.

            At last, I pulled myself together long enough to take the test. I sat it on top of the box and perched it on the edge of the bathtub. Then I opened the door to see Chris leaning against the wall, chewing on the edge of his thumbnail. He watched me with worried eyes.

            “It says we have to wait fifteen minutes,” I mumbled.

            Chris drew me against his chest. I wrapped my arms around his waist and tucked my head beneath his chin. His arms enclosed me, wrapping me in a solid field of warmth. I tried to listen to the steady beat of his heart beneath my ear. I counted each _lub dub_ and worked to time my breath to his pulse. _One… two… three…_ breathe in… _four… five… six…_ breathe out.

            The clock ticked along. Fifteen minutes seemed to take a day. I felt his breath of anxiety when he realized the time was up. Chris gave me one last, reassuring squeeze before he took my hand. Together, we faced this little plastic _thing_ that had the potential to change our entire lives.

            He squeezed my hand when he saw the result. He didn’t say anything, letting me have time to process. I glanced at the box for confirmation. Just to make sure that I was reading it right.

            Positive.

            “Chris… I…” I turned, words already trying to form in my mouth. I would tell him that he didn’t have to deal with this. That I wouldn’t tie him to me like this. And then I saw the look on his face.

            It was as if every bit of worry and strife had been stripped away. His eyes were bright and shining. His lips curved in a small smile as he stared at that little contraption with the two pink lines on it. Something about the wonder that spread around him made my terror melt away. He looked as if it was everything he had ever wanted.

            His smile was infectious. I allowed myself a moment to mirror his joy. “Chris?”

            He took my hands in his and brought them to his lips. He kissed each of my fingers and nuzzled his nose against the inside of my wrists. The feel of his beard and his breath made goosebumps run up my arms.

            “I can’t believe it,” he whispered almost in awe. Chris rested one of his hands against my stomach, his fingers spreading wide as if to cover and protect the life that was growing there. “I’ve always dreamed of being a dad.”

            My heart melts in my chest. Gold and sunshine and warmth rushed throughout my limbs. My head began to spin with the relief that rushed in to replace the terror and doubt. Chris was here in this moment with me, and he wasn’t upset. He was _actually_ happy.

            “I’ll make an appointment with the doctor,” I said with a grin.

            Chris smiled broadly. He cradled my face as he pressed his lips against mine. “Would you… would you let me come with you?”

            “I wouldn’t go without you,” I whispered, resting my forehead against his. “I don’t want to do this alone.”

            “You won’t,” Chris said vehemently. “I’ll be here for every day of morning sickness and every appointment and food craving and mood swing and crying fit and foot rub and…”

            He blushed, realizing that he had gotten carried away. “I promise you won’t be alone.”


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

 

            Chris and I sat on the sofa under a fleece blanket. The window over the street was open, letting the cool night air wash over us. The television was a low murmur in the background as we talked.

            He brushed his fingers through my hair as I rested my head against his chest. “Tati? Why don’t you talk about your parents?”

            Somehow, I’d convinced myself that I could go the rest of my life without having this conversation with him. I naively thought that the question of family wouldn’t come up—at least not mine. I didn’t know if I could explain to him how the Dalcas weren’t going to welcome him with open arms the way his family had done for me.

            “You talk about your grandmother—your _bunicǎ_ —a lot. So does Seb, I guess. But he talks about his mom, you never talk about yours,” he continued. I could sense his hesitance in the tone of his voice. He wasn’t sure if it was the right time to bring it up.

            “ _Bunicǎ_ is the one who raised me,” I said quietly. “That’s why I think of Sebastian as more of a brother than a cousin most of the time. He was there a lot, too. Until Aunt Georgeta moved to Austria. After the Revolution, she let him visit sometimes. But then he moved to the States and I didn’t see him much. We used to write letters in Romanian when we were kids. He told me his step-dad didn’t like it, but Aunt Gee told him it was okay.”

            Chris sat in silence, listening as I told the tale of my childhood. I tried to remember the early memories of my life. “My parents… they were good people. My mother and Sebastian’s mother were sisters. My father was a teacher at the school where they taught piano and violin. Growing up, _bunicǎ_ and _bunic_ wanted them to be in the National Orchestra. But they decided to teach music to the poorest children in the cities instead.”

            I felt the sting of tears as they welled. It had been so long since I’d talked about them, even to Sebastian. The memories of them seemed to blur more with each passing year, and terror set in at the thought that I would someday forget everything about them except their end.

            “I was five when the Revolution began. I don’t remember much, just that we locked the doors at night and my father made sure that I hid beneath the bed whenever someone knocked late at night. People died all over the city. The military took over the streets.” My throat threatened to close. I struggled to breathe. “I couldn’t understand why we were so quiet at night, why my father turned out the lights and worried about my mother when she had to work late.”

            Chris gripped my chin gently between his fingers and thumb. He tilted my head up to look at him. Worry settled around his eyes. He pressed his lips against my forehead and held me close to his chest. “You don’t have to say any more,” he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion.

            My fingers dig into his shirt as I fought back sobs. He whispers nonsense in a soothing tone, tells me to focus on his breath to count his heartbeats. The sound of his voice tempers the panic that threatens to rise in my throat.

            I sniffled and clutched Chris around his chest. He held me and didn’t pry. As much as it hurt to talk about, I knew that I couldn’t keep it inside forever. If we were going to make a life together—if we were going to have a _baby_ together—I owed it to Chris to know about my past.

            “Both of my parents got caught up in the December ’89 riots. They were coming home from work together—I was with _bunicǎ_ —and literally got caught up in the chaos. They weren’t demonstrators. They did the best they could under the Communist Party, even if they didn’t like it. All they wanted was to raise me and live safely.” I find their faces on the wall in the picture of us at the beach with Sebastian. “They were trampled when the military started firing on demonstrators. My _bunici_ saved me from a Communist orphanage.”

            Chris drew me onto his lap and tucked my head beneath his chin. The strength in his arms cradled me in warmth and safety. Somehow, I knew that the terror of my past wouldn’t hurt me anymore. Not with Chris around. Here in his arms, I would always be safe. Nothing could get me.

 

 

            I looked over at Chris as I lie on the exam table at the doctor’s office. He looked far too big to be in that tiny room. He sat with his legs crossed, his phone in his lap as he scrolled through emails and texts. He’d had to explain to his family and to a few film executives that he would be staying a while longer. Chris had already stayed a month over his original visit.

 Every now and then, he would glance up toward me and grimace. “God, that looks so uncomfortable,” he said playfully.

            I giggled and wiggled my toes in the stirrups. “Yeah, it’s not going to get any better.”

            He made a face and reached for my hand. Our fingers locked just as the doctor knocked and came inside.

            She was an older woman with dark auburn hair and kind eyes. She spoke in rapid Romanian, looking at the chart in her hand.

            “You had a positive result on a pregnancy test,” she said, barely looking at me.

            “Yes,” I answered. I threw Chris an apologetic glance. He’d have to take my word on the translation. “I wanted to confirm and maybe see if we could identify how far along I might be.”

            The doctor nodded and pulled on a pair of gloves. Then she proceeded to flip up the sheet covering my knees and do a full exam. As she worked, she asked questions about symptoms and sexual activity. I answered them all, trying to hide the sense of discomfort as I all but blocked Chris out of a conversation that was about his unborn child.

            After a while, the doctor left the room. A nurse came in with an ultrasound machine. She had a gentler bedside manner than the doctor. She kept me as covered as possible as she rubbed jelly on my stomach and set the wand against my skin.

            “Do you know when you might have conceived?” she asked in Romanian.

            I looked to Chris and nodded my head to his phone. “What day was it when we went to _La Tama_?”

            Chris checked the calendar and called out the date. There was a faint blush on his cheeks, as if he had some vague memory of what happened that night in the dark.

            I turned to the nurse to translate, but she stopped me. “I speak English.” It was with a heavy accent, but she _did_ , in fact, speak English.

            From the corner of my eye, I saw the tension rush out of Chris. I felt another stab of guilt that he’d missed the earlier conversation because of the language.

            “There,” she said quietly. I watched her finger as she traced a small shape on the screen next to the table. “I would say close to six weeks.”

            Chris stood and came closer. He covered my hand with both of his. When he looked at the screen, there were tears in his eyes.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

 

            It was a beautiful night. The moon was full and glittering on the water. Ships came and went in the harbor, their horns echoing across the sea. Overhead, the clouds blew away so that the stars winked in and out of sight like diamonds.

            Chris stood behind me, his arms wrapped around me and resting on my stomach. The two of us were wrapped up in warm sweaters and a blanket as we watched the water over the Black Sea.

            “When do you have to leave?” I asked quietly. I hated the thought that we wouldn’t be together for much longer. Even if he was still mine, even if there was nothing keeping us apart but distance, it still felt… final somehow.

            He sighed softly and kissed my cheek. “Two days,” he whispered. “I have to go to New York to meet with producers about a play. I’ve tried to push it back, but they can’t postpone any longer. Not if I want to be part of the project.”

            I gripped his fingers tightly. My brain didn’t know how to make sense of everything that was going on inside of it. Thoughts of doctors and babies and fear and guilt. I pushed down the tears and the shame and the feeling that I was holding him back. It wasn’t the time for me to unburden myself of all that.

            “They must really want you if they postponed the meeting for so long.”

            “It’s Broadway.” His voice sounded awestruck and proud. “Not a musical or anything, but it’s bigger than just about anything I’ve ever done.”

            I turned in his arms and looked up into his eyes. They were impossibly dark. He looked sad. I bit the inside of my lip to keep from crying. I scratched my nails through his beard beneath his chin.

            Breathing suddenly became very difficult.

            “You’re going to be great,” I said, trying to keep the sound of my breaking heart from my voice. “It’s going to be amazing.”

            Chris hugged me against his chest. I closed my eyes and breathed in the scent of his cologne and his shampoo and everything that was so characteristically _him_. There was no telling how long it would be until I was able to see him—hold him—again. He had so much ahead of him. He had an amazing career that could take him anywhere and everywhere. Staying with me was only going to keep his dreams far out of reach.

            He sniffled, and I realized he was crying. “I don’t want to leave. I can’t… I can’t bear the idea that you’ll be here alone. That I won’t be with you.”

            As if he’d given me permission, I started to sob in his embrace. My heart shattered and reformed and broke apart all over again. I wrapped my arms tight around his middle and held him as close as possible.

            “I don’t know what I’m going to do without you. If something happened to the baby because of me…I could never forgive myself.” I felt sick. “What if you aren’t here when…”

            He squeezed me tightly and kissed my forehead firmly. “I promise, as soon as the meeting is over, I’m going to be right back on a plane. You aren’t going to do this alone.”

            As much as it pained me, I extricated myself from his grasp and paced down the beach. I tugged the edges of my sweater closer around my body, trying to keep out the chill that slowly rolled in from the ocean.

            My whole world flashed before my eyes. The tiny apartment I’d made into a home. The path I took to work every day—through the market and the park. The sight of two dozen little faces waiting for me as I opened the door at the school. Niccolo and his parents, all of whom had been better to me than I could have asked. The school and every single child who had come through my classroom in the last four years. I blinked away tears. I twisted my soul away from the knowledge that I couldn’t have Chris and all the rest.

            I tried to run, to keep ahead of the fear and the sadness and the shame. Bile burned its way up my throat. My head spun, tilting the world up and down beneath my feet.

            I hit the sand, crashing to my hands and knees. I fell over on my hip and curled into a ball. The cold seeped into my bones.

            Chris knelt by me, gathering me up into his arms. In a fluid motion, he stood and started back toward the apartment. I cried against his chest, struggling to breathe as everything I’d ever known turned itself inside out.

 

            I tried to pretend I was asleep while Chris packed. He shuffled around the apartment gathering up everything he’d brought with him. I heard him clearing out his toiletries from the bathroom and pulling his clothes from hangers in the closet.

            The bed dipped. Chris brushed his fingers through my hair. “Tatiana, I don’t… want to leave.”

            I tugged the duvet up around my shoulders, trying to hide away from the hurt I knew was waiting on the other side. Even if it was going to hurt Chris.

            “I’m sorry,” I murmured, hoping he wouldn’t hear the tears in my voice. “I don’t feel well.”

            Chris curled his arm around me and filtered warmth and strength through my blood. Even when I hurt him—even if I didn’t mean to—he didn’t care. I was his first thought, his last thought, the concern that slipped through his brain with every beat of his heart and every breath in and out of his lungs.

            He pressed his lips against my ear. “I’ll cancel the meeting. I won’t go.”

            I couldn’t help the sob that tore through me. “No. Please don’t do that,” I whined. “Not for me. I’m not worth it.”

            Chris took a deep breath and rested his chin against the curve of my shoulder. He was silent for a long moment, as if he were weighing something eternally heavy in his mind.

            “Then come with me,” he whispered softly. “Come with me. Come back to Boston and stay.”

            I blinked. It was every fear and shadow and doubt that I’d harbored since the moment I fell in love with Chris Evans. It was the choice between what was and what could be. The life I had and the life that might wait for me on the other side of the world.

            The quiet stretched on, and I knew that with every passing second one of my worlds was slipping out of my reach forever. Fate tugged on the strings of my life, pulling me forever away from what I’d known and what I might know.

            Chris closed his eyes and pressed his palm gently against my stomach. “Come with me to Boston. Marry me.”

            I didn’t give myself time to think.

            “Okay.”


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

 

            Chris flew back to New York without me. There were too many things for me to take care of before I could follow behind him. I had to explain to Niccolo and his family that I was leaving. I had to say goodbye to the children who meant the world to me. I had to work out an early release from my lease, how to get my things sent over, where to keep them until I could ship them to Boston.

            I spent most of my remaining time in Constanta saying goodbye to _bunicǎ_. That was perhaps the hardest part of leaving. She wasn’t in the best health, and I was terrified that if I left for good, I would never see her again.

            “ _Ce ma faci tu, bunicǎ_ ,” I asked quietly as I sat down beside her bed. She looked so frail beneath the blankets. Her hair was a wisp of white like down. The skin of her face was thin, drawn over her bones.

            My grandmother turned toward the sound of my voice and smiled. Her voice sounded like crinkling rice paper as she spoke in lilting Romanian. “I am the same, my girl. An old woman.”

            I smiled and took her hand. “I have something to tell you. And I would ask your blessing.”

            As much as she could, _bunicǎ_ sat up in her bed She squeezed my hand with feeble fingers. “Little Dalca, you know you can tell me anything.”

            Sighing, I met her gaze. No matter the sickness that ravaged her body, her mind had stayed sharp. It was evident in the light in her eyes. “I’m leaving Romania.”

            She laughed. “It’s about time, Tatiana. I have always wished you would follow Sebastian out of this place.”

            “That isn’t all.” I nervously clutched at the St. Christopher medal around my neck. I wondered where Chris was, what he was doing. “I’m pregnant.”

            “Is he a good man?”

            I nodded, trying to hide tears. “The best of men.”

            “Does he treat you well?”

            There was no hiding them now. The tears rolled down my face. “Like a princess.”

            “Can he take care of you?”

            I thought of how hard Chris worked, how generous he had been to the school—how he intended to keep his promise to sponsor the school even after I left—and I knew that there wasn’t anything Chris wouldn’t do to make sure that the baby and I were taken provided for.

            “I won’t have to work if I don’t want to.”

            My grandmother nodded. A small smile brightened her wrinkled face. “Most important. Is he handsome?”

            I laughed. “The most handsome man to ever live.”

            She brought my hand to her lips and kissed my fingers. Her voice was quiet as she spoke the words of an ancient blessing. “May your days together be long, your strife be short, your happiness be wide, and your love be deep.”

            The nurses came in just then. The medicine they gave her pulled her attention from me, pulled her down into a restful sleep. I kissed her forehead and promised her I would come back to visit as often as I could.

 

            “Are you _kidding_ me!” Sebastian yelled loud enough that I had to pull the phone from my ear. “Are you fucking kidding me!”

            I didn’t know whether it was the fact that he sounded so angry or the hormones that had slowly started tearing my emotions apart. Whatever it was, I started to cry. It was the sniffling, couldn’t breathe snot crying that made everything blurry around me.

            “Do you even have a plan, Tatiana? Where you’re going to live? What’s going to happen to all your stuff in your apartment?” He shot questions off faster than I could process them. “Do you have any idea what you’re going to do?”

            “Why are you so mad? I thought you were happy for me.” I tried not to yell back. I tried to keep the sobs out of my voice.

            “I asked you one thing, Tatiana. I begged you to not give up your life for him.” He sounded exasperated. “Chris is like a brother to me. He is my best friend. And I know that he loves you, but I can’t believe you would give up everything you’ve built for him.”

            I don’t know what made me do it. All I could think of was making Sebastian understand.

            “ _Sunt ȋnsǎrcinatǎ!_ ” I shouted into the phone.

            There was silence on the other end. As if I had finally found the thing that would silence my cousin. And yet it wasn’t the way I wanted to tell him. I wanted to be with Chris when we shared the news. I wanted my cousin to be happy for me. Yelling it in anger was nothing like the way Sebastian should have heard.

            “I’m going to kill him,” Sebastian growled.

            There was no hiding the sobs. “He’s asked me to marry him. And I said yes. I need you to be happy for me, Seb. Please?”

            “You’re throwing away everything, Little Dalca.”

            I sighed, my heart feeling as if it was tearing in two. “I’m gaining so much more, Seb. Chris is more than I could ever have imagined. More than I could ever have dared to dream. There’s nothing I’ve done here that I can’t do in Boston in time.”

            Sebastian went quiet once again. I wiped the tears from beneath my eyes and tried to catch my breath.

            “Be happy for me. Please? _Bunicǎ_ has given us her blessing. Will you give us yours?”

            At last, when I thought he would deny me or hang up or keep yelling, Sebastian grunted. “I only want you to be happy. You know that, don’t you?”

            “Chris makes me happy. And I want to be with him, wherever that is and whatever that brings.”

            I could just imagine Sebastian rolling his eyes, frustrated. “Let me know when your plane is supposed to land. I’ll pick you up from the airport. You and I need to talk.”

            Once he was sure I understood, Sebastian shared his love and hung up. It wasn’t exactly a blessing, but he hadn’t refused. I sighed and double checked my ticket in my purse. It wouldn’t be long before I saw Chris again… when I would start the road toward being his in every way possible. I missed him so much, and I couldn’t wait to see him again.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

 

            It was pitch black when my plane arrived at La Guardia. The flight had been delayed for hours in Istanbul, and I was exhausted. Sleep had eluded me as I left everything I’d ever known for what might have been the last time. I spent a good while curled in on myself and crying. I worried for _bunicǎ_. There was a sickening fear inside me of facing Sebastian in New York. When we finally landed, all I could think of was picking up my bags and going to sleep.

            As late as it was, there were still people milling around in the terminal. I struggled to pull my heavy suitcase behind me as I trudged toward the entrance, looking around for Chris or Sebastian. Anyone.

            But there was no one I recognized. And I certainly didn’t have enough American money to take a cab. I didn’t even know exactly where I was supposed to go.

            I pulled my suitcase over to a row of seats and sat down, clutching my purse in my lap. I felt sick—partly from exhaustion, partly from hunger, but mostly from a sudden gnawing sense that I’d made a horrible mistake.

            After all, the last time I’d been in this airport, I had flown off to Romania believing that Chris and I would be together. Even if I’d been wrong about what happened afterward, I didn’t have any fond memories of this place.

            I searched my purse for the adapter to plug my phone into the wall. Had one of them been here and left when they found out the flight was delayed, only to fall asleep? Had either of them been here at all?

            Time passed so slowly that 10 minutes felt like 100 years. Fear and anxiety settled in. My heart beat so quickly I thought it would burst through my chest. Something tight wrapped around my ribs until I thought they might shatter. I devolved into a terrified, sobbing mess of panic. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think.

            All I felt was fear.

            Something touched my face. The sensation was so jarring that I nearly screamed aloud. I thrashed, terrified that something horrible was trying to snatch me away. The edges of my vision hazed grey. The world slid sideways.

            The thing touching me solidified into a hand with gentle fingers and a calloused palm. A voice filtered into me from so very far away.

            “It’s me. It’s me,” it said hastily. The voice sounded nearly as torn with terror as I felt. “Shh. It’s just me.”

            I fought to focus. To push down the panic and the feeling of drowning and suffocating and dying and splitting apart into a thousand pieces. It took every ounce of my will to make sense of the sounds pounding against my eardrums.

            “Tatiana, count. Count with me.” The thing pressed my hand against cloth stretched over something warm and solid. It rose and fell beneath my touch, vibrated in time with the sounds washing over me.

The warm-solid-cloth went up, vibrated, went down. “One.” Up, vibrate, down. “Two.”

Somehow, I gained control of my lungs. The splinters of my ribs knit back together, making it easier to breathe. As air rushed into me, my vision cleared. My whole body ached. My head pounded.

“Chris,” I whispered, the shape of him coming into focus. “I thought you’d forgotten about me.”

He sighed and smiled sadly. He kissed my forehead gently. “Never,” he said vehemently. “New York traffic is just a fucking nightmare.”

I sniffled and pressed my fingers against his jaw, slid them into his beard. It took me a long moment for me to truly realize that he was there. That he was in front of me again. That we were together again.

“You have to be exhausted,” Chris admonished gently. “Come on. Let me get you home.”

He helped me to my feet and took my carry-on. He slung it over his shoulder and pulled my suitcase toward him. My fingers fit perfectly between his, just where they belonged.

 

Jet lag hit like a train car when I woke the next day. A glance at the alarm clock by the bed said I’d slept for almost sixteen hours. And yet I didn’t feel rested. I felt like a rag that had been soaked and wrung out until the threads had gone bare.

I struggled to my feet and looked around, trying to figure out where I was. Vague memories of arriving with Chris the night before formed like images in mist. There was a bathroom close by and a kitchen somewhere a bit further.

“Chris?” I asked, opening the bedroom door. The apartment was larger than any I’d ever seen. The entire floor where I lived in Constanta could fit a few times over in this place. It was on a split level—the bedrooms and a bathroom on a second floor that ended in a balcony over a sunken living room. From the railing, I caught sight of a table and chairs. From somewhere beyond, I heard voices.

I tiptoed down the stairs, realizing for the first time that I was dressed in a button down that smelled very much like Chris’ cologne. God only knew how much of a mess I must be.

As I neared the kitchen, the voices became more distinct. There was Chris’ sweet rumble that sent an ache through my chest. Two other voices mixed in with his, but I couldn’t figure them out as they were much quieter.

I poked my head around the kitchen door. Chris stood at the stove in a worn t-shirt and sweatpants, a spatula in one hand and a griddle in the other. A plate stacked with pancakes sat nearby. His attention was divided between his griddle and the people who were sitting at the breakfast bar. One of them was Sebastian, who didn’t look entirely happy to be there. The other was a woman who looked incredibly familiar.

“It’s all right,” she said, smiling. It was an odd kind of smile. Not a full smile, but just the corner of her mouth. Something about it promised mischief and friendship and secrets and laughter. “I’m not going to bite.”

Chris turned and caught sight of me. His eyes brightened, their blue becoming aquamarine. He smiled, showing a dimple hidden in his beard. “Did you sleep well?”

I ran my hands through my hair, glancing subconsciously at the woman. I knew that I _knew_ her, I just couldn’t place it. “I slept, but I don’t feel like I did.”

The woman smiled a little wider. “Jet lag is a bitch. Worse when you’re pregnant.”

I knew the look on my face was a mix of anger and shock when I saw Chris go pink. He looked away shyly. “Scarlett is practically family.” He said it like it was enough of an explanation.

I wanted to slap myself. Scarlett _Johannsen_ was sitting in Chris’ kitchen and I was walking around with bedhead and a shirt-dress.

“At least she heard about it in a happy way,” Sebastian grumbled.

“You were yelling at me and trying to convince me to change my mind,” I hissed in Romanian. “It was the only way to make you shut up.”

Scarlett looked between my cousin and I then grinned at Chris. “I don’t understand a word of that, but I know somebody is in trouble. And it sure as hell isn’t me.”


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

 

            Chris settled onto the bed beside me. He rolled onto his hip and propped himself up with pillows. His fingers brushed my hair from my eyes and skimmed down my arm to settle on my waist.

            “I still can’t believe you’re here,” he whispered. His gaze roved over my face, my body. “You don’t know how many nights I’ve spent right here, wishing I could hold you, kiss you. Tell you how much I love you.”

            My lips turned upward in a small smile. I threaded our fingers together over my stomach. There was something in me that made me anxious for the moment the baby first moved. I didn’t know what I would do when it happened, but I was desperate for it.

            “I’m here. And I won’t leave unless you ask me to.” My heart trembled at the thought. I couldn’t imagine a life without Chris.

            He scooted closer. “I want to marry you, Tatiana Dalca. I want to raise a family and grow old with you. Just you.”

            I brushed my fingers through his hair and draw him close enough to kiss. When our lips met, I felt a rush of desire burn through my blood. Every nerve ending tingled, and my entire body yearned to be as close to him as possible. My nails scraped against his scalp, making him groan.

            Chris gathered a fistful of my hair, wrapping his fingers in it as he tilted my head to deepen the kiss. His tongue swept across my lips. I sighed, and he took me over. His body settled over mine, his mouth traveling along the line of my jaw and down the curve of my neck. He nipped at the hollow of my throat and every sense of pleasure exploded inside me.

            His fingers worked deftly at the buttons of my nightshirt. With every inch of skin exposed, his mouth found new paths to explore and new ways to make my body sing with sensations. He nuzzled between my breasts. The feel of his skin and his mouth and his beard were almost more than I could bear. It stole the breath from my lungs.

            Teeth latched gently onto my nipple, followed by the soothing sweep of a tongue. I dug my fingers into his biceps and whimpered in a pain-tinged joy that I’d never felt before. An ache started low in my core, pulsing in time with the beat of my heart. Every move, every kiss, and every touch from Chris made the ache stronger. At last, it was so strong I couldn’t help myself.

            “Please…” I whimpered. My voice sounded strained, almost as if I was in excruciating pain. Perhaps I was. I had never been so aroused, so full of desire before. It was more than I could control.

            A lazy smile worked its way over Chris’ face. He sat up on his knees and let his gaze rove over my entire body. I could feel it like a physical touch, stroking up my calves and thighs, delaying over my core, sliding along my ribs and around my breasts. The heat in his gaze was enough to boil the blood in my veins. I shuddered, digging my nails into the sheets to keep from touching myself. I knew it wouldn’t be enough. I knew that whatever I needed had to come from Chris.

            He tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it aside. I let out a low moan when I saw his chest, the darkness of ink along his ribs and collarbone, the dark hair along his skin. I bit my lip to stop myself from drooling over the cut of his abdominals and the deep V along his hips. Chris chuckled darkly as my thighs parted and my legs opened for him.

            Fingertips brushed up my legs and hooked into the band of my panties. He slid them off in a smooth motion, then settled himself between my legs. He nuzzled against the inside of my thighs. The warmth of his breath rushed over my pussy. I nearly fell apart then.

            Chris pressed a gentle kiss on the inside of my knee before he wrapped his arms firmly around my thighs. He held me down by the hips as he thrust his tongue between my folds in long, slow laps. My fingers fisted in his hair, digging in a way that I knew must have been painful for him. He growled and focused his attention on my clit.

            The pleasure ebbed and flowed as he licked and sucked and circled my clit. He released his hold on one thigh to slowly press two fingers inside me. I keened in an overload of sensations as he searched for and found my G-spot. The combination of his fingers and his tongue pushed the tide of release higher and higher. When it crashed at last, it felt as if every neuron in my brain had exploded and every fiber in my body had been taken apart and put back together infused with buzzing sunshine.

            When my vision finally cleared, I looked down to see Chris still nestled between my legs. He nuzzled against my core, his tongue gently swiping along my skin. Little aftershocks ran through me. I ran my fingers through his hair to get his attention.

            He smiled, making a show of licking his lips as he looked up at me. I felt like I blushed from the bottom of my feet to the top of my head. He crawled his way up my body, kissing and nipping my skin as he went. He murmured something against my stomach before he settled over me, holding his weight on his forearms.

            Chris pressed his forehead against mine. I tilted my head enough to capture his lips, desperate to have him close, to know what it was like to kiss him with the taste of me on his tongue. He grunted, his hips bucking forward almost on their own.

            His breath came in heavy pants. Sweat beaded on his forehead, as if he were trying desperately to keep himself in check. I smiled as my hands slid down along his ribs, slid into the band of his sweatpants, gripped his ass and pulled him as close to me as possible. He pressed his face against my throat, breathing hard as his hips flexed, thrusting his cock against me.

            I slid my hand between our bodies. My fingers wrapped around his length and stroked slowly. Chris swore against my throat as he thrust into my grasp. I squeezed a little tighter, moved my fingers a little faster.

            “Stop,” he groaned, backing away from me. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. The evidence of his arousal was prominent against the front of his sweatpants. The pupils in his blue eyes were blown wide.

            With confident, gentle hands, Chris drew me up to my knees on the bed. He brushed my hair back, slid his fingers into the damp locks and kissed me softly and slowly. He took his time reminding me that he loved me, that the two of us together were more than just the chemistry we had in bed.

            “Turn around,” he whispered against my ear.

            I did as he asked, sighing softly as he drew me back into his arms. His palms slid up my stomach to cup my breasts as his lips brushed along my shoulder. Chris gave my breasts a squeeze before he tugged his sweatpants off and threw them somewhere over his shoulder. He wrapped one arm beneath my breasts and lifted me slightly off the bed. The other hand positioned me where he wanted.

            He kissed the side of my neck as he slid inside me. The angle was new. I felt full. Like I could feel every centimeter of him as he starts thrusting. His speed picked up quickly. The strength of his arms held me up, held me in place as he chased his release. I dropped my hand and pressed my fingers to my clit, wanting another of my own.

            Chris growled and grunted in my ear as he came. He held me immovable against him as he spent himself inside me.

            “I love you,” he murmured, his strong hold loosening. His fingers stroked my skin as we curled against one another, panting and sweaty.

            “I love you, too, Chris,” I whispered into the dark.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

 

            The drive to Sudbury felt as if it took longer than four hours. Chris sat behind the wheel of his recently purchased Land Rover, one hand on the wheel and the other on my knee. I leaned against the window and dozed on and off. I had been feeling ill most mornings for the last few weeks, and exhaustion had settled over me like a heavy blanket.

            I had been in the States for almost a month. Chris and I had met with an immigration lawyer to begin the process of citizenship. We were honest with the lawyer, telling him that we wanted to get married. That we’d been together for only a short while. That I was pregnant and that we had fallen in love during my last visit to the States. He counseled us to wait on the wedding until the paperwork was processed. The fees weren’t an issue.

            At least the baby would be an American citizen. Probably before its mother could claim such a thing.

           

 

            We pulled into the driveway of his mother’s house in Sudbury. It was a warm, sunny day in late spring. Miles and Stella were shouting and swinging from the branches of the tree in the side yard. Lisa was working in the flowerbed by the front steps. Carly and Shanna were sitting on the porch, watching the kids. Dodger lazed by the door. He perked up when Chris turned the car off and stepped out.

            I laughed a little when Dodger came bounding off the porch and dived at Chris. There were scratches and wrestling and laughing as the two of them got reacquainted. I pulled myself out of the car, holding my jacket over my middle to hide my belly. After all, sharing the news was the whole reason we’d driven down from New York for the weekend.

            Chris pulled himself away from Dodger and came around the car, reaching out for my hand. He smiled and gave my fingers a squeeze. We made our way across the lawn just as a BMW slid into the drive behind the Rover. Sebastian climbed out and stretched, looking a little unhappy at being locked in the B car with Scott. I had to admit, I still hadn’t figured out how he’d gotten his big frame into that small car.

            Lisa stood up, pulling off gardening gloves and dusting grass of her knees. She called around the side of the house. “Miles! Stella! Your Uncle Chris and Uncle Scott are here!”

            Dodger sniffed my hand and let me scratch his ears as we waited at the bottom of the steps for Scott and Sebastian. “I still don’t get why we couldn’t all come in the same car,” I said.

            “Because I have to go back to New York tonight,” Scott said as he passed us. He dropped a playful kiss on my head. “Not everyone gets to take a few months off and galivant, sister.”

            I laughed. Chris shook his head and turned to Sebastian. “Did he drive you crazy?”

            Sebastian shrugged. “Nah. To be honest, I slept most of the way.”

            “Me, too,” I retorted, leaning toward him. “Are you knocked up too?”

            Chris poked me gently with his elbow. Lisa grinned and hugged the three of us in turn. “It’s about time you came back,” she said, cupping my face in her hands. Her brows furrowed together. “Have you gained weight, Tatiana? You look… beautiful. Not that you weren’t before, you see, but…”

            Chris’ mom stopped talking, turning bright red. Chris laughed so hard he clutched his chest. “Yeah, Ma, she’s put on some weight.”

            He nodded at me, and I moved my jacket so they could see the slight curve of my belly. It wasn’t much. I was only about two and a half months along, but it was enough to tell.

            I thought Lisa was going to faint. Carly and Shanna both started to squeal as they ran toward their brother. He caught the both of them in his arms and hugged them tightly. The three of them laughed and cried together as Lisa took my hands in hers.

            “Oh, Tatiana…” She pulled me into a gentle, motherly hug. When she broke the embrace, her eyes glistened with tears. “Are you okay? Is the baby healthy?”

            “Healthy as a horse. Both of us.” I glanced toward Chris, who was still telling his sisters the whole story. “It was an accident. We didn’t plan on getting pregnant, but we’re both happy about it.”

            Lisa hugged me once again. Her hand hovered over my stomach, but she didn’t touch me. I smiled reassuringly. “Go ahead. Nothing’s been happening yet, but it’s okay.”

            Just then, Miles and Stella came careening around the side of the house. Dodger barked and started running circles around them. Sebastian and Chris caught them up, spinning them in circles, turning them upside down and tickling until they screamed. Scott had disappeared inside somewhere.

            “Tati!” Stella cried when she saw me. She tried to wriggle away from Chris’ grasp. “Tati!”

            Chris squatted on the ground next to her and met her gaze. “Stella, you have to be careful when you play around Tati, okay? And she can’t give you piggy pack rides for a while.”

            Stella looked at me as if I’d betrayed her. I frowned and walked toward them. Chris wrapped his arms around the back of my thighs and gave Stella a sideways smile. “Tati has a baby in her tummy, and we have to be very careful with her. Think you can help me take care of her?”

            Stella looked from me to Chris. She pulled herself away from Chris and walked over to me. For a moment, she just stared at me. Then she leaned forward and kissed my belly with a smile. “I can take care of Aunt Tati.”

            I leaned down to pick Stella up, but both Chris and Sebastian came rushing toward me, arms out to stop me. “ _Nu_!” Sebastian shouted.

            My cousin hefted Stella up into his arms and booped her on the nose. “Tatiana is going to need your help, _Stea micǎ._ Sometimes she forgets she can’t do everything.”

            All the while, Miles had been standing by his mother, watching the whole tableau. He nibbled on his fingers in nervousness. Chris picked him up, brought him over to the rest of us.

            “Are you okay, Miles?” I asked.

            He shook his head. “Wast time you weft, Unca Chwis was reawwy sad. Awre you gonna make him sad again?”

            I felt as if I was going to burst into sobs. I couldn’t imagine what happened when Chris came to his mother’s and told them about what happened between us. Shame spread through me. “I won’t, Miles. I promise.”


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

 

            Lisa leaned against the sink facing Chris, who was propped up against the center island. I was curled up on the sofa with Stella reading her a book. I suppose the two of them didn’t think I could hear as they talked in hushed voices, probably since they couldn’t see me from where they stood.

            “We’ve already started the immigration paperwork, Ma. Trust me, it’s the first thing we did,” Chris said. He sounded exasperated, as if he’d had this conversation a thousand times before.

            “I’m just worried about you, Chris,” Lisa returned. “It’s all so fast. And after the way she treated you.”

            Chris held up his hands to stop his mother from saying anything more. “We’ve gotten past it. And it isn’t entirely her fault.”

            “You don’t have to make excuses, Chris. Not when she acts like that.” Lisa sighed and reached for her son’s hands. “I’m not trying to get in between you. I saw you two together before all that mess. You both looked so happy. I just don’t want you to get hurt again.”

            Chris hugged his mother tightly and kissed the side of her head. “Don’t worry about it, Ma.”

            She laughed a little. “I’m always going to worry, Christopher. You’re my boy.”

            They disappeared through the back hallway and I lost sight of them. Stella had fallen asleep against my side, the book open across her belly. I closed it and put it out of the way, curling up with Chris’ niece and pillowing my head on the arm of the sofa. Dodger clambered up on the other end and collapsed on my feet. I wasn’t going to argue, he was warm.

 

            I woke up sometime later. I wasn’t on the sofa any longer. Instead, I was tucked in the blankets of Chris’ bed. Dodger slept at the end, his head on his paws. The room was shrouded in shadow. The clock on the bedside table said it was a quarter to eight. Sitting up, I stretched and tried to slip out of the bed without waking Dodger. He snuffled and grunted but didn’t wake.

            I stumbled into the bathroom and splashed some water on my face. Some nagging sense of _off_ ran circles around the back of my mind. A glance in the mirror showed dark circles under my eyes and a pale tint to my skin. It wasn’t that I felt nauseated or dizzy, but more that I just felt an overwhelming sense of wrongness.

            Tying my hair up, I opened the bedroom door and was suddenly awash in light and sound. A faint glow lit up the bottom of the staircase. The sound of children laughing and glasses clinking wafted around my head. I came down the steps halfway and sat down, listening to the sound of Chris and his family enjoying their time together.

            “Are you sure you want to do this?” It sounded like Scott, but I couldn’t be sure.

            “If one more person asks me that, I’m going to punch ‘em in the fuckin’ teeth,” Chris groaned. His words were a little slurred. He must’ve had a few drinks.

            Silence for a long moment. “Only asking because we care. You know that.”

            I could imagine Chris running his palm down his face, smoothing out the hairs of his beard and mustache. He did that when he was exasperated. “One misunderstanding and the whole family thinks it’s the worst idea in the fucking world for us to get married.”

            “Chris…”

            The two of them murmured quietly for a while, their voices rising and falling in a way that I couldn’t make out what they were saying. I thought I heard Sebastian’s voice somewhere, but I didn’t want to think that he’d forgotten me too. My head started to ache and tears blurred my vision as I stood up and started back to Chris’ bedroom.

            The sound of a crash downstairs stopped me. I turned and dashed down the staircase two at a time, nearly toppling over when I made it to the bottom. Stella crashed into my legs, her eyes wide with fear. I saw Carly and Shanna ushering Miles out of the room. Stella shouted for her mother as I hefted her up onto my hip and surveyed the melee going on in the living room.

            Lisa was looking on in horror as Sebastian tried to get between Chris and Scott, who were a few seconds away from trading blows. A mess of broken glass on the floor was the only evidence of the crash I’d heard. I didn’t want to know what happened to send two brothers into a fist fight.

            My cousin looked around, his eyes going wide when he caught sight of me. He looked as if he wanted to shout at me to leave, but he didn’t have time. In the split second that he’d looked away, Scott slipped past Sebastian and tackled Chris to the floor. Stella screamed and started to cry. Lisa covered her mouth like the sight made her sick.

            Sebastian struggled to pull the two brothers apart.

            I curled Stella against my shoulder and backed away from the living room. When I hit a wall, I turned and dashed around the corner into the kitchen. Miles was sitting on the counter with his hands over his ears. Shanna and Carly hovered nearby, clearly not knowing what to do. When she saw her mother, Stella wriggled from my grasp and ran over to her.

            “What happened?” I asked quietly.

            The look Shanna gave me left no doubt what happened. She looked as if she would slap me if I came any closer. The disagreement obviously had something to do with me.

            Without a word, I turned and slipped down the hall toward the front door. I slipped on my shoes and pulled Chris’ sweater from its hook. Tugging it over my head, I pushed the door open and melted into the crisp spring night.

            The stars were a little easier to see in Sudbury than they were in Boston or Constanta. I looked up at the way they twinkled and sparkled as I meandered down the drive toward the street. The cold started to seep in beneath the fabric of Chris’ sweater as I hit the street and turned left. Sudbury was quaint in the way that all suburbs were. As I walked along the side of the road, I wondered what it had looked like when Chris was young. How much had it changed?

            Twenty minutes into my walk I realized I was lost. I’d taken a few turns along the way and the next thing I knew, I didn’t recognize anything. Panic settled into my bones. My heart hammered my ribs and the pavement tilted beneath my feet.

            I sat down on the edge of the asphalt. Bile clawed its way up my throat. I thought of Chris and Scott fighting at the house. I thought of the look of fear Sebastian had given me while he tried to break the two of them up. I thought of the way Shanna and Carly looked at me as if I was some alien thing that had invaded their home.

            Time passed slowly. It could have been a few minutes, or it could have been a few hours. All I knew was the sense of terror that hovered around me, the panic that cinched my lungs closed in my chest, the nausea that turned my stomach upside down. The cold turned my skin to gooseflesh. The darkness crept in around me, filled with the noises of animals crawling and skittering through underbrush.

            Bright light blinded me. A car slowed to a stop on the curb not far away. The door opened. The sound of heavy footfalls on the road. A shadow appearing in the haze.

            “Ma’am? Are you okay?” The voice was authoritative and careful. The Boston accent thick.

            Panic closed my throat. I wanted to back away, crawl through the grass and disappear into the forest where nothing could find me. I looked up at the figure standing over me with wide eyes.

            “Ma’am?” I caught sight of words along the side of the car. _Sudbury Police Department._ “You have some ID on you, ma’am?”

            Terror overwhelmed me. I knew what happened in Romania to foreigners who were arrested. The police weren’t to be trusted. They were violent, hateful, and corrupt. I backed away from the officer slowly, my hands up in front of my face.

            “I… I… just got lost… I’m staying with friends…” I couldn’t tell him the address, even if I had remembered it, not when Chris and Scott could very well still be fighting.

            It was too much. I broke down crying.

            The officer crouched in front of me. He was younger than I expected, probably barely out of high school. His face—what I could see for the glare of his headlights—were kind.

            “Let’s get you somewhere warm. Then we can call your friends, okay?”


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

 

            I sat by the desk of the officer who had picked me up somewhere on the streets of Sudbury. His name was Mark Hart, and he was incredibly kind while he spoke to me. I couldn’t help but feel an undercurrent of terror at the thought of being in a police station, even if Officer Hart had done his best to show me that he just wanted to help me get back to my friends.

            “Are you sure you don’t know the address?” Officer Hart asked once again. This had to have been the ninth time that he’d asked that question, but my answer hadn’t changed. I had never learned the address of Chris’ mom’s house by memory, but now I wish I had.

            “I’m sorry,” I replied quietly. My eyes were red from crying—partially from fear and partially from exhaustion. It had to be close to one in the morning, and it felt as if I’d been awake for days. “Is no one answering the phone?”

            I’d given him both Chris and Sebastian’s numbers, but it seemed like neither of them were answering. My heart turned over in my chest, and I started to worry that I was going to spend the night sitting in the Sudbury Police Department. Stories of what happened to people when they were caught up in police custody filtered through my mind. I knew the horror of the police in Romania. I knew that I was not an American citizen. Something terrible was going to happen.

            “I’ll keep trying,” he assured me with a smile. “Do you want something to drink?”

            I shook my head and curled inward on myself, wishing I could be at home with _bunicǎ_ in front of her fire. How odd that I didn’t think of Chris first.

            Officer Hart brought me a blanket sometime later. It was thin and scratchy, but it was enough to ward off some of the cold in the police department. Not long after, I fell asleep curled into a ball.

 

            “Ma’am? Ma’am?”

            I awoke to Officer Hart given me a gentle shake on the shoulder. “Ma’am. We finally got an answer on the numbers you gave us. They’ll be here in a few minutes to pick you up.”

            Five minutes later, Sebastian came barreling in the front door of the police station. He looked as if he’d been through the ringer in the last few hours. He shouted my name and let loose a stream of Romanian as he tugged me hard into his arms.

            “What were you thinking?” He asked, holding my head between his hands. His words were rushed and tangled up in fear. “Why did you leave? In the middle of the night? What in God’s name got into you? Do you have any idea how terrified we’ve been?”

            I could sense the eyes of the officers on us. Americans weren’t very fond of someone speaking a language other than English. Particularly, it seemed, in a police station. I tried to push my cousin back toward the door, to get out of that place as quickly as possible. My stomach turned over. “Why were Chris and Scott fighting?”

            My cousin’s face fell, as if he didn’t want to talk about it. He delayed by gathering me close and hugging me tightly. I could sense the fear and tense anxiety that was built up in his muscles. His grip on me was almost bone-breaking. For a moment I thought my breath was being squished from my body. Sebastian wouldn’t let go, even when I tried to push away from him.

            “Seb, why were they fighting?”

            He sighed and looked me over, as if he were trying to find any scrape or bruise. He let his hand hover over my stomach, where the bump of the baby was starting to show.

            It was enough for me to know.

            They were fighting over my place in Chris’ life. They were fighting over my right to be one of them.

            I nodded, not needing words to confirm what I already knew. It was painfully clear when it was Sebastian who came to claim me rather than Chris.

            “I want to go home,” I whispered in Romanian. I didn’t know where I meant—whether that was Constanta or Boston or New York—I just knew I wanted to be anywhere but here.

            Sebastian thanked Officer Hart for his time and care. Then he led me out the door. Chris’ car was in the lot. “Let’s go back to pick up our stuff,” he said quietly as he started the car. “Then we’ll go to the train station. We’ll go to my place in New York for a while.”

            It seemed like I was forever going to be running from my problems with Chris and his family. But getting away from whatever drama had gone down seemed like a good idea. At least until Chris had time to sort things out with his family.

            The ride back to Chris’ mom’s house was quiet. I was emotionally and physically exhausted—far beyond anything I’d ever felt. I couldn’t cry, even though it felt like I needed to. Somehow, I knew that a good sob would make me feel better. At least a little bit.

            “Stay here,” Sebastian said as we pulled into the drive. He reached over and squeezed my hand before he headed toward the front door.

            Faint light spilled out as Chris opened the door to let him in. They spoke with their heads close together for a moment before Sebastian slipped into the house. Chris crossed the grass and climbed in to the driver’s seat.

            “Tati, are you okay?” His eyes were strained with worry. A red mark bloomed on his cheek, and I was pretty sure he had a busted lip.

            “Fine,” I replied curtly. I felt awkward and unsure of what to say to him. For the first time since we had found our way back together, I felt lost and out of place in his presence. “I’m fine.”

            His expression made it clear that he didn’t believe me. Yet he just nodded and reached for my hand. We sat in silence for a while as we waited for Sebastian to come back out with our bags.

            “You should fix things with Scott. And the rest of your family.” I looked toward the house, wondering what was taking Sebastian so long. “You should stay.”

            Chris looked as if I’d slapped him. He glanced back toward the house and sighed. “I don’t know what happened. One minute we’re talking about Stella and Miles and the next thing I know, Scott said something about you and the baby and I saw red.”

            Part of me wanted to ask what Scott said. The rest knew that whatever it had been, it was enough to hurt. I squeezed Chris’ hand and tried not to cry. “Seb and I are going to his place in New York. Stay and take care of whatever is going on with your family. I…”

            I swallowed the words. They didn’t need to be said. Chris probably knew better than I did that I wasn’t very welcome in Sudbury at the moment. Perhaps I wouldn’t be welcome for a long time. Maybe I never would.

            “Let me come with you,” Chris whispered. He grasped my fingers in his and brought them to his lips. “I don’t want to be here right now, not after tonight.”

            There weren’t words to describe the pain that lashed through me as I shook my head. “This is where you need to be.”

            “I _need_ to be wherever you are.” He settled his forehead against my shoulder and rubbed his palm in slow circles over my swollen belly.

            I brushed his tousled hair with my fingers. “This is where you _should_ be. You know that.”

            If Chris decided to fight me, I didn’t think I could make him stay behind. The truth was that I didn’t know how I would manage without him. Sebastian had never been less than wonderful to me, but I knew I was intruding on his life now. When I had lived in Constanta, I was a cousin he kept in touch with over the phone and visited when he was in the country. Now that I’d come to America, I was a much bigger problem. Now, forced out of my fiancé’s family home, I had no choice but to crash with Sebastian in New York.

            I was sure Margarita wouldn’t be very pleased with the arrangement.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

 

            It was just past dawn when Sebastian and I stumbled over the threshold of his New York loft. The apartment had a musty smell that came from being unused, and I was glad that I wouldn’t have to deal with Margarita first thing in the morning. At my side, my cousin sighed. Seemed he was happy about that fact as well.

            “You know where the guest room is,” he said groggily. There were dark circles under his eyes and I wondered what part of the night’s events had etched them there.

            “Hey,” I called as he started off toward the kitchen. He stopped but didn’t turn around. “I’m sorry you keep getting pulled into this mess… my life.”

            His shoulders slumped, and he ran a hand through his tangled hair. His next words were in soft lilting Romanian. “You’re not a mess, Tatiana. You are practically my sister and I love you. Besides, Grandma would kill me in the old ways if she knew I let you be unhappy.”

            Without a second thought, I closed the space between us and threw my arms around his middle. I hugged him tight, pressing my cheek against his broad back as tears slipped beneath my lashes.

            “What am I supposed to do, Seb? What if this never works?”

            Sebastian gave my fingers a squeeze and then turned to envelop me into one of his warm hugs. He kissed the top of my head and mumbled against my hair. “You give it everything you’ve got until it works, or until you’ve tried everything. Then and only then can you give up.”

            I nodded. With one final squeeze, I disentangled myself and gave him a faint smile. “I’m going to call Chris and then lie down. Thank you.”

            He grinned sideways and waved me on. I swept up my overnight bag and trudged down a short hallway to the guest room. It was tucked along the back wall of the loft with a view of the skyline and the Hudson River in the distance. New York was nice, but I didn’t feel like taking in the sights painted in the colors of the rising sun. I just wanted to sleep.

            I tugged the curtains closed and crawled into the wrought iron bed that dominated the middle of the room. It was clear from the little decorative touches that Margarita had done much of the work in designing the space. There was a vase of flowers that were so perfect that they had to be made of silk and a vanity that was made of dark polished rosewood. Eclectic, but stylish. And way more feminine than what my cousin would have if he lived alone.

            For a long while, I stared at the phone in my hands, unsure of what I would say to Chris. I missed him, of that I was sure. He hadn’t done anything wrong, nothing to make me run and hide for months like I had before. And yet I felt strangely cut off from him, like this was a place where we would always end up. This space where I would always be on the outside, trying desperately to make my way into the circle his family made around him. I wanted so desperately to be a part of it, but I didn’t know how to say so.

            I scrolled through my contacts and tapped Chris’ number, listening to the tone as the call went through. Panic started to rise in my chest, and I had to remind myself that there wouldn’t be a strange woman on the other end who answered. Chris was waiting for me, ready for me to call to let him know that we’d gotten to New York safely. He loved me. Of that, I was certain.

            “Morning,” came Chris’ voice from the other end of the line. The sound of it was deep and husky, thickened with the haze of sleep. “Everything okay?”

            I snuggled deep beneath the duvet and sighed. “I’m all right. What about you? What happened after we left?”

            Chris grunted. I could barely make out the sound of rustling fabric and a faint growling. Dodger didn’t sound too happy at being displaced. “Ma swore up and down she’d never have alcohol in the house again. That won’t hold for too long, but she’s upset. Scott’s got a black eye. My lip is busted open and I’m going to have a wicked bruise on my jaw. Never thought my brother could swing off like that.”

            Part of me wanted to laugh. The way he described it sounded like one of his stories—out drinking with his Boston friends in dive bars and getting into mischief. But the other part of me knew it wasn’t anything to joke about. He’d gotten into a fight with his brother over me.

            “You know what I mean, Chris.”

            I could sense him rolling his eyes.

            “Shannon and Carly put the kids to bed. Ma took the both of us out in the back yard and doused us with the hose to sober us up. Some coffee would have done just the same, but hell we deserved it. We were freezing, but she wouldn’t let us back in the house until we’d worked it out.” He went quiet for a while, gathering his thoughts. I let him have his space to think and just listened to the sound of his breathing. “We’re good, Tati. I promise. Everything will be fine come dinner time after we’ve both sobered up and slept on it.”

            I smiled sadly into the slowly brightening world. “Promise me that you’ll make sure everything is fixed between you and your family before you meet us back in New York.”

            He chuckled. “I swear. Sweet Jesus, Ma called my dad last night. And those two don’t talk except on holidays. He was ready to come beat the shit out of us for getting into a fight. I don’t even want to know what would have happened if he’d actually showed up.”

            “They’re your family, Chris. And they love you so much. No one could argue that.” A wave of melancholy came over me just then. I fought back tears. “I want them to accept me again, like they did at Christmas.”

            “Oh, Tati… don’t let this make you think that they don’t like you. They do.” The rustling got louder, and I imagined him sitting on the edge of his bed. “They worry about me is all. After what happened with Minka and Jessica… they get very protective when there’s a woman in my life. That’s all.”

            I tried to tamp down jealousy at the mention of his previous relationships. They didn’t matter. It was the two of us now, and there wasn’t anything anyone could do about it. I certainly didn’t want to let my own fears and insecurities get in the way of our happiness again.

            “Whatever it takes for me to prove to them that I love you—goofy, stupid, meatball Chris—I’ll do it. I want to be your wife. And I want to be a part of your family.” My hand strayed to the Beauty and the Beast necklace resting over my heart. I thought back to the happy Christmas evening when he’d given it to me. There were so many joyous memories I’d already made with him and his family. I wanted there to be a million more.

            “Rest, my love. I know you’re tired after everything that happened. I’ll make sure things are good here and I’ll come join you. I might even bring Dodger.”

            I smiled, thinking of curling up with my second favorite bed buddy again. “I’d like that.”

            “Hey,” he whispered, “I love you. So much.”

            “I love you too, Christopher Evans.”


End file.
